Control
by InuyashaPHB
Summary: A new teenager with an astonishlingly shocking fighting style becomes part of the Titans. Please review. Chapter NINETEEN up. IM to talk about story.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Teen Titans, etc. However, this storyline is mine, so no stealing!!!_

**CHAPTER ONE**

It was late night in Gotham City. The moonless sky had been blotted out by rather ominous clouds that formed a solid grey, lit only by the several thousands, if not billions of lights in the magnificent city.

It had been raining for the past few days in the city; the humid aroma of wet asphalt was everywhere. Most windows had a thick white fog what would drench any cloth that attempted to wipe it off. Trees, though rare in the city, were still dripping from the latest shower, the earth around them a semi-solid mud, hard enough to step on, but sticky enough to stay on a shoe for days after walking in it.

As seen from the slums, the skyscrapers of downtown played brilliantly on the charcoal background. This was where a young man, dressed in a jet black hooded sweater checked the time on his oversized watch, the LED backlight illuminating his face a dull blue.

"12:36," he muttered as he turned down a pitch black alley, his boots making a quiet thud with each step, occasionally accented by a splash as he stepped in a shallow puddle.

He came out of the alley a few hours later, the hazy sky showing a slight tint of orange to it on the eastern horizon. Morning fog was the norm for Gotham City due river near its boarders. The river-effect fog and clouds combined limited visibility to almost less than 20 feet.

He held his watch up again and checked the time, turning the backlight on once more to see properly. The silhouetted digital readout said 4:00am. It was sunrise, time to start the day. Walking to a space beneath a street lamp, one of the few that hadn't been broken by neighborhood children, the young man illuminated his figure entirely. There, in the blurred light of the vaporous street stood a teen of probably 15 or 16, his long brown hair, matted down from the wetness that permeated the entire air of the city. He was at least 6 feet tall and was wearing the same black hooded sweater he had on about 4 hours ago with the now noticeable faded blue jeans that fit well on his long legs. On his feet were dark brown suede boots, worn to a non-uniform color from being constantly used. He had no other distinguishing features other than the bloodshot eyes of many sleepless nights. He was merely the average, generic, long haired teen.

The thick fog was beginning to fade as he walked down the lonely streets of the slums, nearing the white collar part of the town. It was odd to see how suddenly the homes changed from beaten up, industrial and grey, to the near opposite residential area. The one thing that marked the sudden change was a wide set of train tracks, wide enough to accommodate about 8 separate tracks, each with their own switching sections. This made a sort of jumble of train tracks that somehow came together perfectly despite the apparent disorder.

This part of the city backed right up to the river shore, the enormous cable stayed bridge that crossed it standing as a monolith to mankind's architectural advancements. The young man walked slowly up to the shore and looked out across the river at the bridge. The fog still lingered, especially around one section of the lake. An area the whole city knew to be Titan Tower, home of the legendary Teen Titans.

"God, what a ridiculous name," he thought as the name of Teen Titans ran through his head. It was even worse that these "great fighters of evil" lived in a giant 'T'.

His stomach rumbled indicating it was time for breakfast. He got up and turned around with a quiet sigh, heading towards downtown with a slight speed in his step.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own Teen Titans, etc. However, this storyline is mine, so no stealing!!!_

**CHAPTER TWO**

It was a long walk to get to the city, but it wasn't so bad since the weather was slowly improving. It was still humid, but much less than before, and at least it was cool which allowed him to move faster without being uncomfortable in his heavy clothing. He slowed his pace and walked into a pizza shop, ironically shaped like a slice. It was a two story building, the majority of the top, an outside eating area. Inside, he walked upstairs and looked across the patio area. It was the basic eatery. Weatherproof steel furniture, each table with a large red umbrella that shadowed the entire eating area. It was still an overcast sky, but that didn't stop people from eating outside. He continued looking out on the patio and saw, sitting in the exact center of the triangular area, the very "Teen Titans" he had been thinking about earlier that day.

He froze and looked at them. They were just here eating their breakfast, nothing more, like average kids.

The only reason he had to worry was the fact that the method he had to go about to get his food which involved petty theft. Granted, it was a small time crime, it may still clock on their radar if they are at the scene.

He walked up to the counter where orders were filled, the scent of pizza rushing out along with the heat of the several industrial ovens inside. He could almost taste the pepperoni and the cheese of the pizza that was currently in the oven. It was going to take some work to pull this one off, especially under the ever vigilant eyes of the Titans.

He watched the timer on the oven with a cool calculating eye, and the man working on the next batch of pizza. He seemed to look back at intervals of about two minutes; at least that was the minimum. There was another man that occasionally came in, but it was rare, he was downstairs usually manning the pick-up and deliveries. The only time he came up was when he needed more supplies. That was when the young man knew of all the variables he needed to know. His eyes showed the twinkle of inspiration. He had taken everything into account and he was quickly forming a plan in his mind. He knew the door did not squeak and that the chef was distracted. As long as the Titans behind him didn't notice him, he would get away with this easily.

He waited for the chef to look back at the oven, its timer showed 5 minutes left, the chef shrugged and turned back to his work. That was when this young man made his move. He ducked into the door and slowly walked up behind the chef. Slowly, he opened the oven's door and grabbed a pair of the many oven mitts left. Sliding them on, he grabbed the pan and slid it quietly out. Closing the oven quietly, he walked towards the door. Upon opening it, he stopped in his tracks. Standing in front of him, no more than one foot away, was the masked caper himself, the famous Robin, leader of the Teen Titans.

"You plan on paying for that?" he asked with a confident voice, apparently proud that he had caught a young hooligan in the act of theft.

The young boy dropped his pan of pizza and shifted to the side quite quickly, evading Robin for a moment. He bolted off towards the ledge of the patio, towards the black metal railings that kept customers "safe". Robin was in hot pursuit very quickly, but not joined by the other members of the team. Apparently this boy was small time, so minute that the whole team need not do anything. But as the boy reached the railings, he apparently drew more attention as there was suddenly a mechanized man standing in front of him, blocking his path.

"Fuck," the boy muttered as he had to stop suddenly, sliding quite a few feet, right into the arms of Cyborg.

"Gotcha," the metal man said as he held onto the boy tightly letting Robin, who was a few feet behind, come to a stop in front of him.

"Didn't want to be caught eh?" Robin said smirking in triumph, "what's your name, kid?"

Apparently this boy had committed such a heinous crime that he was only entitled to the title, "kid", a notably disrespectful term among teens of similar ages.

He looked at Robin with nothing more than a slight narrowing of his eyes. These guys had grossly underestimated him, but they still had the upper hand at the moment leaving him with little choice but to play along. The degree of surprise would play into his hands soon enough.

"Patrick," he said shortly.

"So, Patrick, what made you think you could steal something right in front of us?" Robin asked.

"Does that really matter?"

Robin was caught a little off guard by Patrick's apparent lack of respect given the situation. He was used to it from hardened criminals, but most teenaged thieves would sooner shit themselves than face any member of the Teen Titans.

"So, are you going to pay for that pizza?" he asked, breaking the silence suddenly.

"I don't have any money, hence the reason I stole it."

"So get your parents to give you some."

Patrick looked down. What Robin had just said really struck a nerve. He was truly distraught, but did a good job of hiding it.

"I… can't." Patrick said quietly.

Robin stopped suddenly. He realized what was going on quickly, his smirk quickly turned to a sympathetic frown.

"Cyborg, let him down," Robin said with a solemn voice.

Cyborg nodded with understanding, he wasn't dense enough to question Robin's judgment in this matter. All the members of the team, spare Starfire, knew of Robin's past.

Patrick was dropped, his plan to escape from them dropped as well.

"If you're hungry, you could eat with us," he said trying his best to smile warmly to a fellow orphan.

Patrick's eyes had been glued onto the floor up until Robin had said this. His eyes met Robin's.

"I don't need your pity," he said angrily, "I can get by on my own."

This sudden surge of anger sparked a shockwave of powerful wind that extended from Patrick's body, kicking up the dust and dirt that had been on the floor of the patio. It was a peculiarly hot wind and was associated with the sudden reddening of his eyes. Once the dust had settled, Patrick was hovering a few inches off the ground.

By now, the whole team had assembled in front of him. Robin, however, forced them to stand down despite his surprise that Patrick possessed supernatural powers.

"Patrick, calm down, we don't want to fight you."

Patrick blinked and realized he had released his powers unintentionally. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he lowered slowly to the ground kicking up small amounts of more dust. As he approached the ground, he felt his eyes getting heavy. It came to his mind as he started nodding off that he hadn't slept in days. It had been easy to ignore until he had used his powers, they were very draining to use when he was tired. Before he had hit the ground, he was asleep, passed out on the hard concrete of the patio in the pizzeria.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Teen Titans, etc. However, this storyline ismine, so no stealing!!!_

**CHAPTER THREE**

Patrick awoke with the rather frightening sight of two brilliantly green eyes staring into his. It was a woman; she seemed to be craned over him as to get a better look.

"Robin, he is awake," she said after backing off, seeing his eyes were open.

Robin, on queue, walked up to Patrick's side, in his blurred peripheral vision. The only way he knew it was Robin was because of the bright red that his "costume" had; that and his height. He leaned down and smiled.

"You alright?" he asked.

Patrick sat up groggily and looked around before answering. He was in Titan Tower, on the top floor, at least 7 stories off the ground. He smirked at the surroundings. The whole team was there, except Raven.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little tired. How long was I out for?"

Robin backed off when Patrick sat up. "About a day," he said.

Patrick wasn't too surprised, he hadn't had a good rest in about three days, it made sense to sleep for over 24 hours to make up for it.

He sat up all the way, popping his neck in the process, and looked over to Starfire who seemed to be watching him intently. She was acting very odd, like she was holding something back

"Um… hello?" he said to her curiously.

That lack of dialogue seemed to be the only thing to keep the floodgates closed as right when he said that, her face lit up like Christmas and she began asking many questions, all of which it seemed she wanted immediate answers.

"What is your name? Where are you from? Why are you here?" she said very quickly. Those were the only three Patrick caught as he was still too groggy to sift out all the questions as fast as she asked them

"Patrick, West Gotham City, and you guys brought me here," he said uncertainly, his voice still resonating of exhaustion.

Starfire seemed only slightly satisfied having only had a few of her questions answered, but looked at him and smiled still. She must have realized that he was still tired.

"So… Patrick, what happened back there?" Robin asked slowly and cautiously. The occurrence at the pizzeria was odd enough to raise a question of Patrick's nature.

"Oh… that," Patrick said raising one hand in front of his face.

He closed his eyes and seemed to be looking at his hands through his eye lids. Within moments, a warm, eerie wind picked up. Within moments there was a slight discoloration to the space above Patrick's palm, extending about two inches. It was orange, a reddish orange. Suddenly, without warning, that section of discolored air burst into a fire; a solid fire, no fuel, no physical way to keep it going.

"Pyrokinesis. Sorry about earlier," Patrick said quickly as he balled his fist, making the flame disappear with no residual evidence that it was ever there except a slightly warmer room; no smoke or any undesired byproduct of fire.

Robin stood there, nodding to accept his apology, apparently pondering to himself. Beast Boy and Cyborg were playing a video game and Starfire was hovering overhead for some unknown reason. Patrick's show of power had grabbed the attention of the rest of the team. Beast Boy and Cyborg looked back after pausing their game to see what was going on. Up until then, they had been unaware that Patrick was even awake, having been ensnared in the false reality of the video game.

"Dude, you can start fires? Sweet!" Beast Boy said as he rolled backwards and did some sort of odd summersault over the back of the couch, landing on his feet then walking up to Patrick who was now sprawled on the couch. He smiled a toothy grin, characterized by at least one noticeable fang.

"Hi, I'm Beast Boy," he said, putting out his hand.

Patrick met his hand, giving him a firm handshake.

"Patrick."

Cyborg was the next one to come up; the on who had immobilized him yesterday with his great strength. He also offered his hand a handshake. His was much more powerful, like putting a hand in a vice. It was powerful enough to pick Patrick up off the couch and make him stand.

A little shaken, Patrick directed his gaze to Starfire who quickly made a move to hug him. It was a friendly hug, nothing more, but it raised the question of who was stronger, Cyborg or Starfire?

She let go and Patrick caught his breath, popping his neck once more. Something was misaligned after that mammoth hug, but it wasn't a big deal.

"Nice to meet you all," he said to them, managing a weak smile, as much as his character would allow.

Patrick spent the day in Titan Tower with all of his new "friends". He only knew four of the five members, but didn't mind. What little he knew of Raven told him she would take a while to warm up to him. At least, that was her public persona.

As it neared sunset, Robin came up to Patrick who was dozing off in a comfortable arm chair. He stood in front of him for about a half a minute without being recognized. Finally, he cleared his throat. This was enough to wake Patrick from his state of half sleep.

"Patrick, we're going to go train on the obstacle course," Robin said, "We were wondering if you wished to train with us."

"Sure," Patrick said as he sprung out of his chair.

"Great. The whole team is outside waiting."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own Teen Titans, etc. However, this storyline ismine,so no stealing!!!_

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Robin had been right. All of the four other members of the Teen Titans were waiting outside on the obstacle course, waiting for Robin to show up.

"Patrick's going to train with us today, team," he said as he walked up to the start point where everyone else was waiting, spare Raven. She was a standing a bit away from the crowd, her face mostly hidden by some sort of leather bound book.

"Okay, cool, let's see what he can do," Cyborg said as he hopped back behind the control system of the course.

"Yes, I too am interested in seeing what he is capable of," Starfire said in an airy way. Beast Boy had said something too, but Starfire's voice drowned it out.

Patrick stood at the start next to Robin.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked with a confused tone. The area in front of him seemed like a mere flat and rocky plateau of the island that Titan Tower sat on.

"You'll know in a few seconds," Robin said slyly as he and the rest of the team backed away from the start.

Patrick walked forward across the line expecting some sort of surprise. Surely enough, the ground began to shake as hidden mechanical devices began to engage. Pieces of solid cliff rock would suddenly shift to the side, revealing several non-lethal weapons, seemingly energy based, like a weak laser. Other portions of the earth opened to give way for more weapons to pop up. Robin was right; he would know in a few seconds what to do.

Patrick's instincts took over as he sprinted forward as all the weaponry began firing at him at random intervals. The red bolts of energy whizzed past his head as he began to charge his powers as he moved and, in turn, run even faster. As he approached the first group of turrets, he released a sudden blast of white fire, jumping as he did so, and flipped over the now severely melted turrets.

He set out towards the next batch of turrets, the units in the cliff wall that had opened up. As he ran, he was intercepted by what appeared to be cheap robotic sparring partners. They were crudely put together and several of the tubes that allowed them to move weren't covered by any metal plating.

Patrick stopped in his tracks and stared them down. Apparently they were programmed to not attack until advanced on. Smirking at this moment to rest as the turrets had ceased fire as to not hit their allied robots, Patrick pulled out from the large pocked on his sweater, what appeared to be a large pocket knife. He flipped his wrist out and the blade came out, a cruel, harshly curved blade that reflected the sunlight magnificently. As quickly as the blade was out, Patrick was back to speed again, on the nearest robot, slashing the vital power cords ruthlessly, a crude hydraulic oil spraying out, not unlike the blood of a human.

By the time Patrick had finished dismembering the lot of over ten robots, he was completely coated in the mechanical blood. Oblivious to this, Patrick leapt forward, lifting off the ground with a burst of power and achieving flight, his target, the wall turrets.

He made quick work of the turrets, melting them to the point where they were good for nothing more than scrap, the silicone of the microchips and the steel fusing together halting all functionality.

It seemed he was on the home stretch; all that was ahead of him was open land, a rather anticlimactic way of ending the course. Patrick sighed and ran towards the end, landing on the ground as he came towards the end. He smiled triumphantly at the team who were looking at him with a slight shock.

"What?" he asked, "did I cheat?"

Robin walked forward and looked out at the disturbing sight that the whole team was looking at; the dismembered robots that were now strewed across the course.

"That?" Patrick asked, looking at the same robotic scrap, "they're just robots."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Robin said shaking off the feeling that Patrick was some sort of ruthless killer. They were just robots, not like they were alive.

The rest of the team seemed to have recovered from the robotic slaughter. But the initial shock seemed to be enough to bring Raven away from her book. The whole team was now aware of his powers.

"How'd I do?" he asked with an unsure smile on his face.

"Well, I toned it down since it was your first time on this course, but you still have a record time," Cyborg said finally looking down to the data, "But unfortunately, you seem to have destroyed half of the course in the process." He did not speak in an angry tone; he seemed more impressed than anything else. He almost sounded sarcastic when he said unfortunately.

That seemed to be the general consensus of the team as most of them smiled the minute Cyborg had finished saying this. It seemed that in this house, destroying things was completely acceptable.

As Patrick looked over the happy faces, he came to rest on Raven. She was not smiling, in fact, it seemed the polar opposite. From what he could read in her facial expression, she seemed upset with his performance, but the rest of the team seemed oblivious to this as they ran up to congratulate him.

"Great job Patrick," they all seemed to say in unison as he was assaulted with multiple pats on the back and other friendly gestures, again from everyone except Raven.

Robin walked forward as the rest of the team backed away. He smiled and offered his own congratulations.

There was an awkward silence before he began to speak. "Patrick would you like to stay with us at Titan Tower?" he asked assuming that as an orphan, Patrick had no other home.

Patrick looked at Robin and to the other members of the team who all seemed to agree with him. He smiled and nodded. "Sure," he said looking around at the smiling faces of his new friends, except one.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Teen Titans, etc. However, this storyline is mine, so no stealing!!!_

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Patrick awoke to a late fall's night at around twelve in the morning to see his own breath in front of his face. The heater of Titan Tower had failed.

It had been raining hard as the seasons began to change. The sleet pounded heavily on his window, amplified with each powerful gust of wind. It was probably the worst storm of that fall, and Patrick had awoken right in the middle of it.

He rose from bed in his pair of pajama pants which were nothing more than glorified pair of loose heavily worn jeans. Neglecting a shirt, he walked out into the hall to the living room deciding that he wasn't getting back to sleep any time soon.

It had been a relatively loud storm. The thunder was a constant rumble. Oddly enough however, there was no lightning, at least, none that Patrick could see.

When he entered the living room, he turned on the large television and switched to a random channel. He muted it quickly after. It was for light, not entertainment, hence the infomercial about "unbeatably sharp knives".

He sat on the chair nearest the window and relaxed into it, looking out the window at the dimly lit cityscape. He sat and shivered as he felt the cold leather on his warm back.

He had been there for what seemed like an hour when he heard a sound in the hallway. This brought him out of his peaceful daze to look to see who had caused the offending noise. As his eyes reached the hallways he saw a familiar silhouette. It was Raven.

By this time, Patrick had become fast friends with all the members of the house, but Raven seemed oddly alienated. And in the few weeks that he had been there, there had been no large crimes to respond to, mostly because of the constant bouts of poor weather. That meant that he had little contact with the others outside the house.

She was shivering, noticeably, her choice or wardrobe being the issue. Apparently she slept in something similar to her uniform, but of what looked like a smoother silky material. The first place she went was the stove where she filled a kettle with the sink next to her while turning the gas range on maximum. This flame light up her whole upper body in a brilliant shade of blue, the fire grabbing Patrick's attention quickly.

As soon as she put the kettle on the stove, Patrick spoke.

"You cold Raven?" he asked from his little nook where he had been watching the storm from.

Raven jumped from the surprise and whirled around to face him, with a battle ready expression until she realized it was Patrick and not some intruder. Then subsequently blushing at his shirtless form. Apparently this queen of darkness still had a high degree of modesty.

"Patrick, what are you doing up?" she asked with a somewhat raspy voice, answering his question with another question.

"Couldn't sleep," Patrick said shortly, "You?"

"The storm woke me up," she said somewhat defensively.

"I see," he said getting up, raising one hand and forming a pocket of warm air around Raven.

"That's how you're keeping warm?"

"No, I don't get cold."

At this time, the kettle, which Patrick had not taken his glance off of even when looking at Raven, began to whistle to signify that it was boiling.

"You're boiling," he said to Raven who seemed to be in a warmth induced stupor. She was tired indeed; the cold was all that was keeping her up.

The sound of Patrick's voice seemed to snap Raven out of her trance of semi-sleep. She turned around and turned off the heat, extinguishing the flame from the gas burner. Patrick blinked when she did so and shook his head, his connection to the flame gone.

"What are you making?" he asked walking towards the refrigerator for a soda.

"Herbal tea," she replied shortly as she poured some boiling hot water into a mug and put a tea bag in, submerging it completely.

"Smells good," he said, opening the refrigerator door, blessing the room with a short burst of bright light before the door shut once more.

Synchronized with when he closed the door was a particularly large clap of thunder that shook the entire house. Off in the distance you could hear Starfire shriek sharply. It was hardly anything, just a rude awakening from Mother Nature. No doubt she had fallen back asleep right after.

"Quite the storm," Patrick said, opening his soda with a resonating hiss.

"Yes," Raven replied. She seemed preoccupied when she spoke, it had been part of her tone since the beginning of their wonderfully diverse dialogue, but it seemed to have grown worse as they spoke to one another.

"Raven, is something wrong?" Patrick asked with a slight tone of concern.

She looked up from her mug to him. "Actually, something is bothering me," she said, "It was your behavior on the obstacle course a few weeks ago."

"Oh?" Patrick asked pulling up a stool and sitting down.

"Yes," she continued, "You seemed to actually enjoy slaughtering those robots."

"And if I did…?"

"It's troublesome to see someone enjoy killing, even a robotic stand-in."

"But that's all they were. Robots. Right?"

"Yes, but it's what they were there to represent that bothered me."

"How so?"

"They were there to act as people, Patrick. And the way you disposed of them was very disturbing. Not only for me, but for the rest of the team. But they got over it. I'm still concerned."

"About what?"

"That you may not be entirely in control of your violent temper."

"So what if I'm not?"

"Then I consider you a danger to the all of us."

Patrick perked up at this. Raven was right to a degree. Patrick did enjoy slaughtering those robots. He enjoyed slicing the vital pump lines and watching them fall. But that didn't mean he enjoyed killing people.

"You don't trust me, do you Raven?"

Raven looked up again from her mug.

"To be honest, I don't. Not yet at least."

"I see…"

Within moments, there was nothing but silence, Patrick got up and moved back to his comfortable arm chair to watch the storm, pondering what Raven had said.

It had been hours before he got up to find Raven asleep at the table, her half finished tea still in front of her, not very cold.

Patrick smiled at her. And picked her up softly as to not wake her. Unknowingly, he had kept the pocket of warm air around her the whole time she was there so she felt quite warm. He slowly maneuvered down the hall to her room where he opened the unlocked door and walked in.

She certainly had a unique room. The whole vibe Patrick got out of it was "keep out or die". It was definitely not meant for others to be in. Each wall covered with multiple one-of-a-kind artifacts, each no doubt with its own story. There were several mirrors on some walls, all gloriously silver or black steal with intricate patterns around them. Near her bed were stacks upon stacks of black, leather bound books, ancient by the looks of them. It was also cold, much worse than Patrick's room, almost to the point that he was shivering. His breath crystallized before him, as did Raven's.

Finally, at her bed, he set her down and warmed the entire room with a wave of his hand. It was now a comfortable temperature versus the frigid death trap it was before.

Patrick turned to the door and walked silently out. Stopping at her deep mahogany desk near the entrance where he grabbed a piece of paper and wrote something before taping it to her door. As he shut the door, the words reflected clearly in the dim light, the ink still wet enough to look somewhat metallic.

"Sleep well. Sorry for being in your room."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Teen Titans, etc. However, this storyline is mine, so no stealing!!!_

**CHAPTER SIX**

Patrick had gotten to sleep around five in the morning which gave him close to six hours before the loud repeated clanging of metal on metal and Cyborg's voice rousted him.

"Breakfast," he said cheerfully through the heavy steel door.

Patrick opened one bloodshot eye and rolled out of bed, landing hard on the semi-soft carpeted floor, cursing as he did so. He dressed haphazardly not bothering to make his hair presentable. It took about fifteen minutes before he was actually ready to stumble out into the hall, towards the appetizing scent of breakfast.

"Morning all," he said in as friendly of a voice as he could muster at this early hour.

He got a half-hearted greeting like the one he gave from most of the other members of the team; spare Starfire, who took the time to annunciate each and every one of her words. She even made eye contact with him as he walked towards the table.

"How'd you sleep Patrick?" Robin asked as he drank a cup of coffee.

"Fine," Patrick lied grabbing a plate of eggs and bacon. Beast Boy looked at him somewhat offended as he did it, but shrugged it off as he grabbed a tofu square, or at least something that looked like tofu.

Patrick looked around the room. Cyborg was in front of the stove cooking all kinds of meats and eggs. It smelt delicious. Patrick could only suspect that food on the table was what he made. Starfire, Robin, and Beast Boy were all sitting at the table, enjoying the meal their robotic friend had made. None of them were speaking and Raven was nowhere to be seen. Probably still sleeping.

Outside, the sun was shining brightly in a now clear sky. It was humid, but very cold as it was nearing winter. The rain of the previous night had saturated the ground of the entire city. The river's bank on the island Titan Tower had risen and was now very high. It was a perfect fall day.

Patrick finished his breakfast, considerably more awake now than he was before. He sighed contently and tipped back in his chair. Most of the other team members had already left the table and were now lounging about the living room.

He had been tipping back in his chair for quite a while before Raven walked in. Starfire was the first to notice this, causing the entire rest of the team to turn their heads to see what was causing her commotion. Patrick himself, too lazy to turn around in his chair, merely tipped a bit further back and rolled his neck back to get a good view of her upside down. Unfortunately, this was a too much weight on the back of the chair, causing Patrick to fall back. Nimble as he was however, he made it look as if he did it on purpose, rolling backwards and hopping up to his feet.

"Excellent, I give it an eight out of ten," Beast Boy said smiling as Patrick righted his chair.

"Really? I though I stuck the landing," Patrick said with a smart assed tone. He smirked and walked to the sink with his dirty plates.

Having been removed by gravity from his chair, he had no reason to remain sitting there. He walked over to the couch in front of the television and changed its channel, noticing that nobody was watching it. He turned on some science fiction thriller movie which Patrick recognized instantly as "Aliens". It was one of those "edited for content and time" deals. It seemed that Titan Tower did not have premium movie channels.

The sound of people screaming on the television drew the attention of the rest of the team, Cyborg and Beast Boy even taking the time to sit down on the couch next to him. They seemed to like the movie, but acted as if it was the first time they had ever seen it.

As the movie progressed, Starfire and Robin had also joined the team on the couch, leaving only Raven in the corner, reading a book, seemingly oblivious to the loud screams of the marine men as they were massacred by the xenomorphic creatures. All of this amplified by they perfect integration of a surround sound system.

The movie had ended around two in the afternoon, with a satisfied whistle from Cyborg as he and Beast Boy jumped up to talk to each other about how awesome it was. Starfire, however, looked as if she was going to be sick, more than likely from the scene involving Bishop, the robotic android, being torn in half and having his mechanical entrails strewn across the landing bay.

"Tell me friend, what will become of Bishop?" she asked Patrick in a worried tone, as if she was convinced it was the account of real events.

"He's trashed," Patrick said off handedly, "We'll have to watch the third one some other time."

Starfire nodded, having dropped any worry for a fictitious character.

"So, what is on the agenda for today?" Patrick asked with a warm smile on his face as he got heavily out of the comfortable couch.

As soon as he said that, there arose a beeping sound. Raven seemed to have the jewel on her cloak glowing red, Cyborg's eyes was doing the same. Robin glanced over and reached out of his pocket a communicator that was blinking.

"Something the matter?" he asked looking around. Beast Boy and Starfire each had an article of clothing that was now blinking and beeping. It was actually quite annoying due to the lack of synchronization between the five lights and sounds.

"Downtown Bank," Robin said shortly, "Titans, let's go."

Patrick stood there, not sure what to do.

"Yo, that means you," Cyborg said as Starfire picked him up to allow them to fly to their destination.

Patrick looked over suddenly and nodded. Apparently, he was a Titan, at least an honorary member of the team. He summoned his power and lifted off the ground, flying fast enough to catch up with the rest of the team as they moved quickly to the scene.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Teen Titans, etc. However, this storyline is ,mine, so no stealing!!!_

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Robin put down his communication device and spoke to the team as they landed in front of the Downtown Bank, a fully armed SWAT unit in the background, ready to mobilize at the drop of a hat. They had been instructed to hold back and provide any necessary cover. The Titans would deal with the dug in criminals.

"Okay team, we have several heavily armed thugs inside," Robin said, "The building has been successfully evacuated. It's time to get to work."

The entire team nodded synchronously and leapt forward to action, flying full boar into the main entrance of the bank, Patrick in the back, still not entirely sure what his part would be, but sure it would become clear quickly.

The bank was large, perhaps one of the largest banks in the nation. It had a large entrance area where the tellers and the ATM were. To the left and right were doors to side offices which the team soon found out, were very maze-like in design.

"Okay, split up," Robin commanded as when approached a nexus of office hallways.

Each member of the team split off, going four separate ways then forking at the next available hall. Patrick was alone in no time after running neck and neck with Raven for a short period of time. He checked each offices desk as he ran, the burglars were nowhere in sight.

Within minutes of feverish searching, Patrick found himself back in the entrance of the bank, his powers still activated from when he first entered. He looked around to see if there was a safe in the entrance. Surely enough, to the left of the teller windows was a nine-foot tall door of hardened Carbon steel that lay slightly ajar. He walked towards it with the hunch that he might at least find some clues in the scene of the crime if they failed to located the criminals in this enormous bank As he approached it, he began to hear voices, deep, masculine voices.

Patrick smirked. The thugs were hiding in the last place the Titans expected, right in the impenetrable bank vault. He charged his powers fully and pulled out his knife, prepared to fight these bandits one-on-one, too impatient to wait for the rest of the team.

As he walked up silently, to the vault door and peered in, spying on his enemy. They were sitting on bags of money, loaded M-16's lying across each one of all eight of their laps.

Patrick smirked once more and pulled the door open with an extremely loud screech as the metal rubbed on its hinges and they strained to keep the heavy door on track. This got the attention of all the men in the vault as they sprung quickly out of their makeshift beanbag seats, aiming at the opening door, Patrick standing right there in the open. They opened fire instantly, filling the air with automatic fire from eight separate guns. As instantly as they had started shooting, Patrick was moving towards them, narrowly missing bullets as he ran with a blinding speed, a trail of rippled air following in his wake of heat as his power charged.

He drove his knife in the hands of each of the thugs very methodically as to not harm them, but cause them to drop their weapon and disable them. It was pretty easy work due to his supernatural power, but very loud, the mix of agonized screams and gunshots were deafening.

When it was all done, there was a neat stack of eight slightly bloodstained M-16's in the corner and eight criminals cradling their hands, with bandages that Patrick had given them, on the floor in the other corner furthest from the door. They were all cursing like sailors and bleeding somewhat, but not at an alarming rate. Patrick sat on a sack of money next to the guns, wiping his blade clean, whistling an airy tune.

This was about the point when the rest of the team showed up. They all stood shocked in front of Patrick as he got up slowly. He looked at all of them and smiled, showing them that the situation was entirely under control.

"They'll be fine, one or two bandages and they'll be good as new," he said, realizing that they were looking at him with a worried expression like the one he was given on the obstacle course a few weeks before.

"No, it's not that," Robin said getting closer and looking at Patrick's left arm, "you've been shot."

Starfire gasped loudly, muting all the other members of the team. She shot forward towards him and looked at his arm with tears forming in her eyes.

"You're dying, yes?" she asked worriedly.

Patrick looked at the bloody portion of his hooded sweater and then to Starfire with an expression like she was crazy.

"No, it's just my arm," he said smiling. Truth be told, he hadn't even felt it the entire time he was watching his captives.

He looked at the wound closely. The bullet had gone clear through, leaving no shrapnel. He was bleeding profusely; it actually was beginning to drip and pool around where he was sitting earlier.

"I'll be right back," he said as he walked into the restroom that was across the entrance, leaving a thin trail of blood droplets as he walked.

Seconds later, there was a bright flash seen from through the gaps the door made by not completely meeting the floor. As soon as the flash subsided, Patrick walked out with his hooded sweater sleeve rolled up to his shoulder, the gunshot wound no longer noticeable.

"Patrick…" Robin said slowly, "Did you just cauterize that?"

Patrick nodded and rolled his sleeve back down and stood in front of the team. His eyes were bloodshot from the tears brought from the immense pain of burnish his skin shut over his wound with no numbing agent.

"We done here?" he asked smiling.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Teen Titans, etc. However, this storyline is mine, so no stealing!!!_

**Chapter Eight**

Patrick was awake again, late at night. This had become an off and on normal for him. Sighing, he sat up in bed, looking out his window. There was a full moon, uninterrupted by any clouds or haze. It was a perfect night. He got out of bed to better view the horizon. The city was behind him, leaving a lot less light pollution for him to see the night sky. The stars were so much more distinguished than he had ever seen them in the city.

Patrick smiled and put on some clothing. He walked towards his door and looked at his normal hooded sweater that lied crumpled on the floor. He picked it up and sniffed it. Making a sour face, he tossed it into his hamper.

He walked back to his bed and pulled out an old trunk from under it. Undoing, the clasps, he opened it and moved aside some soft white cloth, revealing a jet black trench coat. It wasn't leather, at least not the shiny type. It was a material that seemed to absorb all the light around it, a veritable black hole of sorts.

Patrick took up the coat and wrapped it around his body, the sweeping material making him vanish to a degree. He sighed and opened his door, destined for the elevator that took him to the roof stairwell.

It was definitely cold outside. The evening's frost was thick on the flat roof of the T-shaped tower. The heat was running silently behind him as Patrick walked to the ledge after staring at the output vents on the heaters, the warmth almost tangible in his mind. Dangling, his legs over the ledge, he sat staring at the stars absentmindedly.

Unseen by him, there was a shadow in the stairwell, someone else was coming up. The dark shadow was magnified ten fold by the awkwardly placed light at the bottom of the roof stairway. It's ominous shape looming behind Patrick in a grand form. He was, of course, oblivious to this. Slowly the shadow shrank as a head emerged from the doorway. It was Raven.

Patrick turned around slowly when Raven had walked completely out of the stairwell and smiled at her.

"Couldn't sleep again?" he asked, standing slowly.

She looked at him confused. "How'd you know I was here?"

"I can see your heat signature."

"You can see heat?"

"Close enough," Patrick said as he turned around and looked at the sky, "So what brought you up here?"

"I thought you were an intruder."

"Nah," Patrick said with a warm smile, "it's just good old Patrick."

Raven managed a weak smirk as she looked out over the roof.

"Sure is clear out tonight," Patrick said smiling at the stars.

Raven nodded shortly with a content sigh.

Patrick looked over to her. She was wearing a cape tonight which was wrapped around her, seeming to keep her warm. He then looked out on the horizon. There was a very far off mass of land that was barely noticeable in the dark night.

"I think I am going to check out that island," Patrick said knowing that added distance from the city would permit him to see the alien night's sky better. He looked at Raven and added, "You want to come with?"

"Sure," she said.

The flight to the island was definitely a silent one. Neither Raven or Patrick were talking, they were both just looking out over the horizon, the only light around was the glow of their combined powers, however slight it was. Raven's light was particularly slight, her glow being black, almost doing the polar opposite of glowing.

They landed on the island's smooth limestone shore, sitting on the ledge, the stars so much more brilliant this far from Gotham. Patrick smiled and laid back on the rock, his hands acting as a pillow. He stared up at the night sky, the wakes of the river sloshing quietly against the rock. Yet, there was another sound. It sounded like somebody speaking from one of the caverns that covered the entire island.

"Raven, you hear that?"

Raven looked over to him and nodded.

"Wanna check it out?" he asked smiling as he got up.

Raven shrugged, "I'm staying out here, eavesdropping is not my style."

"Sure, if you want to be cynical about it," Patrick retorted as he walked up to the large cavern where the voices were emanating from and entered it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own Teen Titans, etc. However, this storyline is mine, so no stealing!!!_

**Chapter Nine**

The limestone was smooth. Patrick's hand ran along it with no friction, a hovering orb of flames in front of him, guiding his way through the musky corridor. Steeper and steeper the path got, soon walking became hazardous. Patrick began wondering who on Earth would take the risk to come down here to merely talk to one another. It seemed that the overall process was ridiculous.

The cavern began to narrow out and there was a large concentration of light in the near distance. Perhaps this was not the entrance, but some sort of naturally occurring air duct. It really seemed that way due to the sheer twenty plus foot drop from the opening and the floor where several men were standing in what appeared to be some sort of secret base.

There were several projectors, all of which seemed to have several schematics of Titan Tower, the giant 'T' difficult to mistake for any other building. On the floor there were several cubicles each lit with some sort of high powered computer monitor. Directly beneath him was a raised floor with a desk on it, some sort of leader's position of honor. No one was sitting at it, but the computer screen on it was well lit.

Two people walked up near the monitor. One was dressed in a generic uniform, the other in a more custom suit, something more showy and cultured.

"There is a new member?" the superior officer asked rhetorically.

"Yes," the other man said as he clicked on the lower right portion of the computer screen on the computer screen he was in front of. "Recognition scanners identify him as Patrick Garrison, orphan, age: 16."

"This is the first Titan who we have actual information on, yes?" the superior asked quickly, glancing down at the screen.

Patrick had perked up. Some one had said his last name; these people sure did their research on him. He had been perfectly shadowed above these men, the acoustics of the cave doing its job to let him listen in on them.

"Are there any relatives?" the superior asked.

"Yes sir, one Samantha Johnson. I have troops outside her current residence waiting on you order."

Patrick's heart had skipped a beat when the worker had said yes. He had gone his whole life suspecting that he had no family. The idea that he had a sister, Samantha, was perhaps the happiest news he had ever heard.

"Excellent, I am glad you know our policy with our enemies' family," the superior said as he walked up to a microphone on the desk in front of him. "Attention, please direct your attention to the main projector. We will be showing a live feed of what you all are working here for."

Patrick looked up at the projector. It seemed to be a shaky camera running into a home. It looked down and Patrick saw an M-16, similar to the ones the thugs at the bank had had earlier that week. His heart sank, his mind suddenly comprehending what was about to happen to his sister Samantha. Screaming loudly as he charged his power, he leapt down from his position above the two men and stared the superior down, flames licking the ground around him.

"Call them off," Patrick growled angrily, "Call them off or I'll-"

He was cut off by a piercing scream and the sound of several automatic rounds being fired off. He flinched and looked down at the ground, the heat of his power rising.

"I'll kill you," he said in a blind rage, "I'LL KILL YOU!" As he yelled he released a full powered blast of flames, melting the skin on the two officers around him, leaving them as mere ashes around him. The shockwaves shattered the glass of all the monitors in the chamber, the shrapnel of the metal components and shattered glass impaling several other workers.

Within seconds, there was only one man left in the room alive, crouching over a fused control panel, desperately trying to open the main doorways. Patrick walked closer to him, the man beginning to shake in fear.

"So, you enjoy killing people?" he asked as he neared the man slowly, pulling out his folded knife as he did so. He whipped it open and picked up the man by his throat, pressing the knife slowly into his left lung.

The man screamed out in agony as blood came gushing out of the wound when Patrick removed the blade. "Please, no… I have a family," he pleaded.

Patrick smirked at him evilly. "Funny, I used to have a family too," he said as he removed his hand from the man's throat and pressed the knife into it, pulling it sideways, splattering his face and a good portion of his trench coat in blood. The man fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, the heart's blood pooling around him.

Patrick looked around in the room. He had just killed over fifty men, most of which were unarmed. He was no better than those he had just murdered ruthlessly. Suddenly the voice of the final man he killed returned to his head.

He looked over to the bloody corpse. There was no doubt he was dead seeing as he was halfway decapitated. "He had a family," Patrick whispered out loud, "He… had… a family." He hung his head and started walking to the air vent he had entered in. The team would have to find out about this. It wasn't just him it involved. This group of criminals had information on all of the other member's powers and even the very schematics of Titan Tower.

On his way out he walked to the only active piece of technology, a printer with a hallowing picture on it. Samantha, his sister of only 13, the ghost of her perfectly beautiful face and brown hair forever engraved on the flimsy printer paper. This was the last link he had to his family, the last link to his sister.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Teen Titans, etc. However, this storyline ismine, so no stealing!!!_

**Chapter Ten**

"Patrick, what's the matter? What's on your face?" Raven asked when she heard Patrick coming from the cave entrance. She had been meditating and had lost track of time, it was now nearing dawn, the horizon a deep crimson, tinted with orange.

"I… killed them," Patrick said in a completely calm voice as he walked towards her, "I killed them all, Raven."

"What? Killed who?" Raven was now standing and walking cautiously towards Patrick, quickly figuring out what the substance on his trench coat and face was.

"All the people in the cave. They're all dead. I killed them."

Raven walked up right next to Patrick, looking at him closely, confirming that he was spattered with blood, the deep red accented by the sky. She withheld a gasp; even the self-proclaimed queen of the dark was not hardened to the sight of blood. She closed her eyes in front of him, delving into the depths of his mind to his recent memories. She moved away from him as she opened her eyes suddenly.

"I'm sorry," Patrick said solemnly, far from oblivious to Raven's presence in his memory, the intrusion causing an odd feeling in his head.

"So am I," Raven replied softly. She had long feared this happening with Patrick. He had so much pent up rage. She knew one day it would all be released in one violent outburst. "Come on, let's get back to the tower." Raven began to levitate and float slowly towards the dimly lit Titan Tower. "We can try to explain this to the others."

"No… wait," Patrick said turning to the cave, seeming to come out of his stupor for a moment.

Raven stopped in midair and landed softly. "What is it?"

"The computers in that chamber… they ran on a network."

"So?"

"That means there might still be a server down there with all our files on it. We have to shut it down."

Raven nodded, the prospect of Titan Tower's security being compromised was enough to keep Raven from taking Patrick back to have judgment cast upon him. Slowly, they set off into the cave, destined for the chamber once more.

The room was the exact same as it had been left. The stench of burnt flesh was prominent in the air, enveloping Raven and Patrick in its pungent grips. Bodies, the ones that had not been vaporized, laid in ruin, most of the time nothing but a charred skeleton left of them, fused to the metal and stone floor.

Raven held back her disgust and walked towards the cubicles in the back of the room, ignoring Patrick's reactions to the room entirely, not wanting to add to the situation in his mind.

Patrick looked out upon all that he had caused. All the workers who had been so severely incinerated, most of which weren't visible, having been turned to ash and scattered about in the room.

Then came the one man, crippled on the chamber exit, still semi-decapitated, a monolith to all Patrick had done. He was still surrounded by a pool of his quickly hardening blood, his face frozen in the eternal form of fear. That was death staring Patrick right in the face, the cold glare of a horror-struck face.

"Patrick, I found a wire," Raven said calling him out.

Sure enough, Raven had found a Cat5 network cable, which had been unearthed when Patrick had released his power in the room. He shook off his emotions and returned to what appeared his normal self; the oposite of what he was feeling with in. Slowly, he made his way over to where Raven was standing and tugged the cable upwards, pulling more out of the ground.

It led to a solid wall. Patrick recognized the obvious hidden door and pressed his ear against the smooth rock, hitting it to listen for hollow spots. It took about a minute of feverish searching until he his a very soft spot in the wall. The pressure caused it to move inwards and lift. Inside there were two enormous black prisms, each with countless lights on them. They were all lit by the flat screen monitor of a computer seated to the left of them. It had an enormous tower, at least three feet tall. This was no doubt the main computer, handling all the requests for data from any device on the network and routing it to the right system.

Patrick took a seat behind the computer finding that it had no encryption and no required login. There was even a blank DVD in the drive. This was the easiest hack Patrick had ever done, not that he had much experience in the art.

The files were burned and he handed it to Raven. Standing up, he made a path for the exit, passing the servers on his way out.

"Wait," he said silently, instantly halting and moving back to look over the side of the server.

"Something wrong?" Raven asked looking around the server to see what he was looking at.

"There's a light on here," Patrick said, tapping the light in question.

"Yeah, so?"

"It says," he squinting his eyes to read in the low light, "It says, 'Headquarter Uplink'." He looked over another light that said "Wireless Network". The entire island was networked.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"It means… these weren't the only people with our life stories."


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Teen Titans, etc. However, this storyline is mine, so no stealing!!!_

**Chapter Eleven**

The team had been surprisingly understanding of what Patrick had done. Or at least, they didn't dwell on the issue for long. It didn't seem like that big of a deal to Robin, probably because when telling the story, Raven had left out some information. The rest of the team, the ones that had not been hardened to seeing death, often gave him odd looks when they passed him in the hallways. The kind of look that expressed their slight distrust of him.

Patrick himself seemed to have gotten over the incident rather quickly. He'd often be found lounging around the house, trying desperately to occupy himself. There had been very little to do, it seemed the big time criminals were taking a break as Christmas approached. There was little to do other than staring blankly out the enormous windows of the tower, watching the yuletide snow fall heavily.

It was a particularly boring, yet relaxing day in the Tower. Patrick had just come in from playing around in the snow with Cyborg and Beast Boy and was completely soaked to the core, but content that he had won the snowball war. He walked into his room and changed, flash drying his snow clothes with a mere wave of his hand and a burst of intense heat. They were now steaming with warmth, too hot to wear inside. He came out with his usual attire, the hooded sweater still on, even in the extremely warm Tower.

The rest of the team came in after Patrick.

"I see, you just _had _to claim your chair," Beast Boy said smiling, morphing into a dog and shaking all the water out of his fur, soaking the rest of the team in the process.

Patrick smirked and looked out the window.

"It's still coming down pretty hard," he said smiling at them. This was the time of year Patrick loved most. This and fall. The weather was always so relaxing to watch, even in the most devastating blizzard.

Raven pulled her cloak ends in front of her and ringed them out, giving Beast Boy a moderately annoyed look when she heard the water dripping off the fabric.

All the team except Beast Boy and Cyborg went back to their room to dry off. Those two inseparable friends sat on the couch and instantly turned on the game console. It was a racing game, Patrick's least favorite type. Yet, he still watched in interest because of his extreme boredom.

"You want next round?" Cyborg offered.

Patrick shook his head and continued to watch.

Cyborg shrugged, the whole time never taking his eyes away from the screen. He was winning.

By this time the girls and Robin returned from their rooms, all dry. Starfire's hair was all that was wet.

Raven sat down and opened a book. Some sort of old leather book, the kind she was always observed reading. Starfire and Robin both sat on the couch to watch Beast Boy and Cyborg play their game.

"Raven, join the party," Patrick said smiling, looking over to the woman in black.

She lowered her book just enough to make eye contact with Patrick. They were full of every possible way of saying no. Patrick got the picture.

The sun was beginning to set. It had been a short day, mostly because the team had only been up since one PM. Cyborg and Beast Boy's game had turned into several rounds, each one louder than the previous.

"Dude, that's fifty three out of one hundred," Cyborg finally said with a yawn of boredom, "Face it, I won."

Beast Boy let out a whine, but it went unanswered. He was actually getting bored too.

Patrick suddenly got up from his chair and walked out of the room, his expression had changed just as sudden. He seemed so upset about something. No one seemed to notice that he had left, except Raven who he had passed by on the way out. She easily sensed something was wrong, but made no move to ask Patrick what was going on. She merely got over the cold shiver she felt run down her spine as he passed and continued to read her book.

By the time the Titans had decided to retire, Patrick had still not resurfaced from the hidden confines of his room. Most of the team ignored this suspecting that he just went to bed early. Raven was the only one who knew something was wrong, but she had been too caught up in her book to go check. Not that she really would have otherwise; she tended to let others keep their own business private.

She was the last one out of the living room, intent on finishing her book before she went to bed. It was finally closed well past four in the morning. She rose from her chair and picked up her book, holding it to her chest as she walked, almost as if she was embracing it, perhaps thanking it for the enjoyment. She walked slowly to her room, passing many of the other teammates' rooms as she did.

She came to stop at Patrick's door. In her dazed state, she had her mind completely open to the world, a veritable receiver of all the emotions of every person within a few yards. She felt him; it was a torrent of uncontrollable emotions. She felt it, his pain. Her face turned from a contented half smile to a frown. Reaching forward, she gently knocked on the door.

"Patrick?" she called out silently, "are you alright?"

Inside the room, Raven heard the sound of Patrick getting out of his bed and cursing as he stumbled over something that managed to make a loud clatter. Finally, after about thirty seconds, Patrick answered the door.

"Yea?" he asked, his door partly open.

"Is something the matter?" she asked.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine." He placed his arm on the doorframe to lean on it. He was in his sleep pants and hooded sweater, more than he usually slept in.

"Patrick, you're bleeding," Raven said pointing to the cuff of his right arm. His thick red blood was dripping slowly from his clothing.

Patrick looked over to it. "Oh, that," he said, "it's nothing, just a little cut."

"It's bleeding pretty badly."

"I'm fine Raven."

"No you're not," she said frankly, pointing to the pool of blood that was quickly forming on the floor. Her voice was void of all emotion, just a frank evaluation of Patrick's blood loss.

"Really Raven, I'm fine." Patrick pulled his arm from the doorframe and out of sight in his dark room.

"Let me look at it," she said, "I can heal it."

"No, it's fine."

"Patrick it's a bad wound. You can't go to sleep with it bleeding like this."

Patrick sighed and put his right arm out to her, wrist up. He began to roll up the sleeve. On his wrist were several red slashes along the width of his wrist, all of them bleeding profusely. Below them were several closed wounds, which had been inflicted recently and only just stopped bleeding.

"Patrick… why?"

"Fifty three. Fifty-three slashes for fifty-three people," Patrick said. This was his way to remember what he had done, to ensure he never did something like it ever again. "This is how I never forget."

Raven stared at him for a moment. His voice sounded different. It was pained; she could hear all his guilt. "I'm going to stop the bleeding."

Patrick nodded and Raven focused her healing powers on the bleeding cuts on his wrist. They closed and stopped bleeding, but as they healed before his eyes, something remained. The scars, all fifty-three of them; they would stay there forever on his wrist, a monument of what he had done.


	12. Chapter 12

**Bold Disclaimer**: I do not own Teen Titans and in no way take credit for their creation.

**Chapter Twelve**

"Good morning all," Patrick said cheerfully, being greeted half-heartedly as he walked down the small flight of stairs that marked the beginning of the kitchen and living room of the tower. One of those split level tricks. He took a seat at the table and leaned back carefully, looking across the table and pausing on the empty counter where a full plate of food usually was.

"Whoa, wait, where are the snackies?" he asked as he looked at the others who were all relaxing on the couches and chairs of the living room, watching the television, all seemingly drowsy.

"Too tired to cook," Cyborg said as he looked over the couch back and then rolled over; crashing onto the floor, not caring that he had fallen. He sighed and got comfortable.

"Wow, aren't you guys a bunch of morning cheer," he said opening the cabinets and finding some cereal for him. The kind that rotted your teeth from the inside out if you didn't brush within two minutes of eating it. He put it in the bowl, ignoring the grunts associated with his sarcasm. Walking over to the fridge, he opened it and pondered for a moment. Finally deciding what to do, he grabbed a two liter bottle of soda and set it on the counter, shutting it with his foot as he walked to his bowl.

After setting up his molar suicide, he walked over to the living room, eating his cereal standing up and watching the television. He glanced left and right at what appeared to be the result of no sleep among the entire team. Even Raven seemed oddly awkward, though it was hard to tell since her face was, once more, hidden behind an old moldy book.

He looked over to her and hesitated. She lowered her book to look at him almost as if she felt his stare. Her eyes held the expression of "we'll be talking later". Patrick shivered and pulled his spoon out of his bowl and drank the remaining soup of soda and cereal. He walked back to the sink and washed it out.

The couch was vacant from Cyborg seeing as he was comatose on the floor. Patrick took this as a welcome sign for him. He hopped over the back of the couch and relaxed on it, crossing his legs, closing his eyes even though his recent infusion of caffeine and sugar made it near impossible to sleep. It was just a façade to appear just as tired even though he knew he had passed out countless times the night before from blood loss which unexpectedly had given him the best night's sleep he'd ever had. No one knew that though, just Raven and him.

"So, we're sleeping today?" he asked quietly, looking over to Robin who seemed entranced by the enormous flat-screen television.

Robin looked over to him, apparently tired even though Patrick couldn't see his eyes through his mask. "Yeah, we were all up way to late last night," he said looking at the clock. Beneath the clock was Beast Boy, curled up in a ball in the form of a kitten, purring as he slept loudly.

Patrick sighed and leaned up. He had too much spare energy to lie down. And within thirty minutes, his morning tooth decay would kick in and it'd be impossible for him to even hold still.

"I'm going outside," he muttered seeming somewhat irritated as he hopped up and walked to the elevator that led to the outside world.

The team grunted in reply. Starfire actually took the effort to pronounce a goodbye, but none of them moved from their makeshift bed. Cyborg said nothing. His electrical parts were all dimmed indicating that he was offline. His robot portion might be charged, but his human side needed to sleep.

"Damn lazy people," Patrick said as he exited the tower ignoring his mind as it screamed that he was the world's largest hypocrite. He hopped up and activated his powers, causing him to hover. "Training time," he thought as he cracked a smile.

The sound of his power charging was silent, a quite hum, similar to a lonely fire that one would fall asleep to while reading on a late winter's night. Silent, but still a power to be reckoned with.

With the sound of a military jet, he was off into the morning air, flying as high as he pleased. The sky was his and for the moment, he answered to nothing. Right now, it was speed that governed the world. Speed, was something Patrick could achieve.

He focused his powers on accelerating, and that he did, reaching a blinding speed well over a commercial jet. Granted, this was uncomfortable to keep up, but at the same time, it was so much fun. He continued up, reaching a vertical, felling the air getting thin around him as he reached further up in the atmosphere. It got harder to breathe as he did so. At the point where he could no longer go higher, he stopped in the air and let gravity take its course, accelerating him down towards the rocky shores of the island below him.

Freefall, something Patrick loved so much. The weightlessness of pure bliss making him feels so much more carefree. The tower became clearer to him as he fell faster and further, the rocks becoming distinguishable, the river's waves quickly becoming noticeable.

He began to slow, wanting to not hit the ground with his current speed for obvious reasons that his mind still insisted to mention to him. The only sound effect his mind was making was a loud thud. A subliminal warning to keep him from dying.

His foot landed on the ground softly and he looked around at the rocks he was standing on.

"Bored, bored, bored," he muttered as he walked along the shore melting various rocks with his still charged powers. He looked over to the entrance of the tower where he saw a familiar black figure. One with her hood up like always.

"Raven?" he asked as he hopped into the air and floated leisurely over to her with his usual warm smile. "What's up? I thought you guys were all too tired."

Raven shook her head. "I don't sleep much," she said pausing for a moment, "Can we talk about last night?"

Patrick sighed, "Look, Raven, last night was-"

Raven stopped him. "You've been acting oddly out of character ever since what happened. The others have begun to notice too, but they refuse to ask about it," she said calmly.

"Yeah, but I'm alright now," Patrick said quickly, "I got it out of my system."

"No, you haven't," Raven replied frankly, "I can still feel what you're feeling. Your emotions are so strong. I can feel your pain and hatred."

"No Raven, I'm alright."

"You might not want to admit it but you cannot hide it. I can help you deal with all this."

Patrick sighed heavily, she was right about everything. "How?"

Raven smiled at him. It was a weak smile, barely noticeable, but still a smile. She looked as if she was preparing to speak, but as she opened her mouth she was interrupted by the sound of her communicator going odd, the jewel that clipped her cloak together flashing slowly.

It was show time once more.


	13. Chapter 13

**Bold Disclaimer**: I do not own Teen Titans and in no way take credit for their creation.

**Chapter Thirteen**

The alert seemed to have revitalized all the Titans as they were out of the tower and ready to go in seconds. Patrick and Raven met up with them mid flight. Robin was being carried by Starfire and Cyborg was being carried by a pterodactyl Beast Boy. Patrick flew forward, right next to Robin.

"What's the problem?" he asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," Robin said raising his wrist watch, checking once more, "the crime database seems to have fallen to shit. I don't think even the police know what is going on."

Patrick sighed heavily. Going against an unknown enemy was not his idea of fun. He preferred knowing what to expect and preparing his strategy accordingly. Ignorance was not his friend.

The location of the disturbance was obvious even if the cause was not. Huge towers of smoke lofted, covering half of the industrial district with its thick shroud. Patrick looked back to the others a little hesitant to speak what he was feeling. They were probably used to going against an unknown foe.

The team neared the epicenter of the destruction; a shadow of something enormous became clearer. It was gigantic, beyond anything Patrick had seen. The beast or whatever it was loomed over even the highest sky scrapers. No doubt this was the cause of all the trouble.

The team lowered, and Patrick followed suite despite his overwhelming thought that what was about to happen would not end well. They reached the ground and the two non-flying members of the titans landed and began to charge the monster, Robin shouting the undeniable words:

"Titans, go!"

It was on. Patrick powered up fully, preparing to take on whatever this was with the other team members either above or below him Beast Boy lowered and morphed into a bear, lumbering along with Cyborg and Robin. That left Patrick, Starfire, and Raven in the skies.

The team all entered the debris at the same time, blinded all the same but the soot and dust kicked up by what ever was slowly tearing the city apart.

"Damn it, I can't see," Patrick yelled out as he accelerated hoping to make his time in the blinding smoke as short as possible. It did, but as soon as he was out, he wished he hadn't escaped it. Standing in front of him was a colossal mechanized robot tearing buildings apart like matchsticks. It looked as if it had a full arsenal of weaponry, but preferred to break things with its claws.

The sounds of the metal monstrosity were loud enough to make Patrick cringe and for the moment, he was all alone with it as the rest of the team crossed the barrier.

It seemed distracted in the destruction of the city and didn't even recognize Patrick's presence. Deciding to use this to his advantage, Patrick flew towards it slowly, expecting to find some sort of weakness on it, one that would be susceptible to his fire. He saw none and was soon on the opposite side of the mech with no luck at all. The beast still had not noticed him, but he was beginning to understand why. Patrick was not a threat to it.

Soon he was joined by the rest of the team. They all stopped just as he had done to look awestruck at the monster. Patrick flew over to them and landed next to Robin.

"It completely ignored me," he said to the boy wonder as he hovered a few feet off the ground.

Robin nodded and looked spoke loudly to the entire group, "Alright, let's hit this with everything we've got."

And that they did. Each and every member of the team lunged forward and began and began assaulting the monster each with their seizure inducing powers. Patrick as well, though he was a little behind the others.

Before a single attack hit, the creature looked over towards the team, its photoelectric red eyes looking over the entire team. As Starfire's beams of bright green light hit the monster, it became clear why it was ignoring the team. The bolts hit an invisible wall, causing a ripple of energy to distort the view of the mech for a moment. The bolt dissipated along with all the other attacks that the team threw at them. And finally came Patrick's fire blast. The swirling torrent of flames and heat did nothing to the beast's armor plating though was not stopped by the energy field.

The team regrouped as the monster turned back to the destruction of the city. It was not even fighting back. Had it been organic it was likely it wouldn't have even flinched at the attack.

"Not even a scratch," Cyborg pointed out, unintentionally making a pun towards Beast Boy's situation. The energy shielding had sheered off the claws of his bear form leaving him with the world's shortest fingernails. But it seemed that Beast Boy found comedy in this despite the friction burns on his finger tips.

"I looks like it was tailored to each of our abilities," Patrick pointed out, "That shield seems to vibrate at the exact opposite frequencies of each of our powers."

The team looked surprised at Patrick's sudden sign of intelligence.

"What? Am I not allowed to be smart?" he asked with a smirk.

The robotic nemesis continued to destroy the city with its bare hands, taking its time making sure each building's structure was far beyond repair. Offices, small business, apartments, it didn't discriminate. It destroyed each one all the same, collapsing even fully inhabited buildings.

Cyborg walked over to Patrick and spoke to him.

"Your fire can go through the shielding of that thing, right?" he asked.

Patrick nodded, "But it cannot even melt the first layer of its armor. It's just too tough."

By this time Robin caught on to what Cyborg was thinking even if Patrick hadn't. He walked over and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Do you think you can open up a gap with your fire? One large enough to shoot through?" he asked.

"Yea, I think I can," Patrick said as he threw his hands forward summoning a beam of fire when he aimed right at the creature's chest plate. Slowly, it began to widen leaving a large hollow pocket where there were no flames and hopefully, no shielding.

"GO!" Patrick said in a strained voice looking over to Starfire, Raven, and Cyborg. They all fired their powers at the exact moment he commanded. The Technicolor bolts of energy went flying past Patrick's head and directly into the chest of the beast, all of them deflecting harmlessly. The mech ignored even this as it was futile to try to break through the armor.

"Raven," Patrick said, "use your power to tear off its armor." His voice was sounding more and more strained with each word. It was obvious he couldn't keep this up for long.

Raven nodded and began to focus her powers on the airtight mesh point where two pieces of the armor met. Her powers began to peel away the armor. The sounds of the bulkheads stressing was quite obvious. The metal was bound to give way shortly.

The metal beast quickly took not of its compromised security. It looked over to Raven with its glowing eyes.

"Security compromised," it spoke with a synthesized voice, "Scanning offender." It sent out a beam of light that ran over Raven's body quickly, leaving a sort of grid on her for a moment. Raven didn't move at all, dedicated to remove the mech's chest plate before Patrick lost his ability to maintain the opening. "Scan complete. Subject: Raven," The machine said as it stopped it's destruction of the buildings around it, "Processing." The machine stopped moving and talking for a moment as it began to think about the situation. "Solution Reached," it announced.

"Raven, be careful," Patrick said slowly, his words becoming more slurred as he lost touch with consciousness, keeping the gateway up being the only thing he was focusing on.

"Contain subject and return to laboratories for further observation."

"Shit, Raven… Run!" Patrick yelled his voice much cleared and louder. He collapsed his gateway and pushed her back. The machine extended one metallic claw towards Raven. Patrick stepped in its way, blocking its path to Raven. She took off. The machine changed its angle, but this time shot forward its hand unexpectedly grabbing her instantly before she could evade.

She screamed as the grip of the machine tightened on her. Starfire and Beast Boy were instantly up in an attempt to help her, but it seemed as if the shield which it had dropped to grab Raven had been reactivated.

Patrick grimaced as he stood higher; raising his arms to summon what more of his power he had left. The robotic arm was right over him, being pulled back to the body very slowly, almost as if to taunt the team. Patrick shot straight up with a blind speed and a sound resembling a gunshot. As he accelerated, he surrounded himself with a barrier of fire. He reached the barrier and flew through it and landed on the top of the machine's hand, Raven still enclosed in its grip.

"Give me your hand," he commanded.

Raven struggled and moved in the grip of the insidious machine, but to no avail. "I can't," she said still struggling to get free.

Patrick turned and ran up the arm of the beast, destined for its head. The machine's head turned and panned down to face Patrick.

"Immediate threat detected," is said, the air about Patrick rattling as the mech spoke, "Neutralizing target."

Patrick's slowed his pace as he saw the machine's eyes begin to glow a brighter shade of red. Before he could move, a blast of red hot light collided with his shoulder, knocking him off of the arm and tumbling towards the ground. He hit hard on his side, clenching his wound. The beast retracted its arm completely and began to glow white. In a blinding flash, it was gone, and Raven with it.

Patrick felt himself fading away into darkness. Someone was carrying him. He finally let his mind give way to the unconsciousness that had been haunting him for so long.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Someone's fingertips were tracing Patrick's right wrist. He could feel them running over all of his self inflicted scars. His eyes still closed, he maneuvered his right hand around to grab whoever was touching him. With a flash he bolted up and held the wrist of his assailant behind their back. He opened his eyes. In front of his face was the back of a familiar head.

"Starfire?" he said quizzically, freeing her wrist and releasing his left hand which had managed to find its way to her throat. He stepped back and looked around the room. It was the medical ward. He had been here before when he had been shot. "Where's Raven?"

Starfire turned around and looked at him. Her eyes were full of tears; it was obvious she had been crying for some time.

"Star… where is she?" Patrick repeated with a more cautious tone, still determined to get an answer.

Starfire began to cry more intensely. "She is gone," she said, her voice meek and quiet as if she was afraid to speak what she had just said out loud.

For a moment, it looked like Patrick was about to loose himself in the emotions that occurred from hearing such words. He closed his eyes and regained his composure, looking at Starfire. "I see." Patrick said as he sighed and turned around, walking out of the medical ward.

Everyone seemed to be taking the disappearance of Raven rather hard. Beast Boy and Cyborg were nowhere to be seen in the living room. Quite the opposite of the normal shouting and bickering about some pointless video game and whose turn it was.

Patrick walked on to Robin's room and knocked hard on Robin's door, the hollow clank heard throughout the hallway. He took a few moments to get to the door, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, there was the relieving sound of pistons opening the door to Robin's room.

Patrick spoke before Robin could even open his mouth. "Please tell me you have some leads," he said desperately.

Robin silently shook his head. "When that mech teleported, it left her cloak and with it, her locator. According to the detector, she's sitting right over there on the table."

"Fuck," Patrick said as he sighed heavily, "how long's it been?"

"About a week," Robin replied, "That beam hit right above your lung. For a while… we didn't think you were going to make it."

Patrick nodded and turned, ready to walk away. I was close to impossible to find her. She had disappeared without a trace. "R…Robin?" he asked, stopping on his way out.

"Yeah?"

"Mind if I hold on to that cloak?"

Robin smiled and walked over to his desk, grabbing the gossamer cloth and handing it to Patrick. Patrick then turned and walked out of his room. Down the hall, he entered his own and hung the cloak up on his coat rack.

With a passing glance, it almost looked as if Raven was standing before him; the coat rack was the perfect height. But after looking at if for a split second, it became apparent it was nothing more than a shell of who it belonged to.

"I can't believe you're gone," Patrick said silently, holding back the tears he refused to allow to escape.

He stood and began pacing. He went from one corner of the room, to another, eyeing Raven's cloak each time he passed, looking a the jewel that acted as a connector to keep the cloak wrapped around her neck. It was an entrancing red; deep, captivating. Even if it was not the black which Raven so commonly wore, the color, in a way, was Raven. Her very core essence seemed to be part of the gem.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he sat on his bed, still staring at the cloak that hung so hauntingly on the rack next to the door. He had been sighing heavily for the past hour, wracking his mind for any plan of action. There were no leads, no traces of Raven, nothing. She could be anywhere, even outside of the city, even off the planet.

Frustration finally getting the better of him, he let out a loud roar-like yell as he grabbed one the metal chairs in his room. He raised it above his head and sent it reeling towards the ceramic plate glass of the large window that took up a large portion of his East facing wall. The glass that was struck shattered, taking much of the surrounding glass with it.

With yet another heavy sigh, Patrick cursed loudly and looked out over the calm water. In the distance, even in the dark, he could see the lighting of the bridge that spanned the body of water Titan Tower was located on. There, silhouetted on the dark water was a small island. It was a familiar plot of land that Patrick had been to before; countless times in the past months. Though no one knew of his return visits. As far as the team was concerned, that island did not exist and nor did the evidence of all of Patrick's deeds.

He began pondering the reasons it was there. Why would someone make a facility so close to the tower? His face seemed confused for a moment, as if often looked when he was deep in thought. Within three seconds of posing the question, he knew the answer. Reality hit him like a ton of bricks.

"They were studying us," he said out loud, standing and walking to the now broken window. It had a clean break at the point where the glass met the floor. The entire sheet seemed to have come off without a sharp edge. He sat down on the ledge, looking out on the water, his gaze still fixed on the island. "The cameras, the building schematics, the bios," he said, "They were watching us. Like were some damned lab rats!"

His head continued to think over his recent revelation. His hand was bleeding, but he didn't notice or care for that matter. He was too far gone in his thoughts. Running through all his experiences following the incident on the island. In all the aftermath, he thought everything was over. He was certain that destroying the facility had ended the possible threat.

Patrick stood up very quickly, knowing what needed to be done. He walked slowly through the deserted hallways of the tower. It seemed everyone had turned in early for the night. He was the only one awake in the whole complex. He passed by Raven's room for moment, hesitating and looking at the bland colored door with her name plate on it. If it were not for that title, he would have never known if it was her room or a broom closet. He hung his head, making sure to mentally kick himself. It was his fault Raven was gone; or at least that was what he had convinced himself of.

It didn't take him long to reach where he was going, even at the pace he was walking. He stood still for a moment, looking at the door that was exactly identical to Raven's, excluding the name on it. Reaching forward slowly, he knocked. A familiar voice was heard mumbling and groaning, apparently being roused from a rather deep sleep. The door slid open mechanically and behind it stood the tall robotic man Patrick knew so well.

"Patrick?" he asked sleepily, somewhat confused as to why Patrick was knocking on his door so late at night.

Skipping directly to the reason Patrick was there, he spoke calmly. "Cyborg, I need a device that can track a wireless uplink from source to any receivers."

"What? Why?" Cyborg asked, caught entirely off guard from the question.

"Do you have one or not?" Patrick repeated, sounding much more impatient.

Cyborg paused looking at him. After a few seconds, he turned and walked back into his room, the door shutting as he walked off. Patrick was about to walk away assuming that Cyborg had gone back to sleep, but just as he turned his back, he heard the sounds of rummaging in Cybog's room. Patrick smiled and stood at the door, waiting for him to return.

"I think this is what you need," Cyborg said as he walked out, "You'll need to find the exact frequency though." Patrick nodded and said a small thank you before walking off, not to his room, but towards the roof.

The breeze outside was very cool. He walked towards the ledge and looked out on the water once more. The island seemed to be lit up with a deep red from the lights of the city. With a flinch, he raised his power and hopped off the roof, falling for a few moments and then taking flight, destined for the island.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

The stench of rotting flesh was almost beyond what Patrick could handle as he reached the entrance to the cavern. It was a smell that was so uniquely horrible, he couldn't help but gag as he neared the command room. He had no idea how to work the device Cyborg had given him, but planned to work with it as he neared the server room. This smell, however, made him wish he had asked for instruction before leaving. It felt as if he were about to vomit at any moment.

This was all his doing. All this death and destruction he had brought. All over the death of a sister he had never met. With a sigh, he attempted to suppress his feeling, the smell doing a very good job of helping.

He got close to the black boxes. They were shut down. Cold, dark, they were all the embodied the evil they helped. Gagging once more, still unused to the smell, Patrick turned on the device and began turning the knobs until he finally found the proper frequency. The small screen lit up with the rough direction of the receiving end. Not wanting to spend any more time in the area, Patrick sprinted out of the cavern and inhaled the crisp, clean scent of the fresh air. Now outside, he was no longer preoccupied by stink, every ounce of memory had flooded him. All this had happened so quickly. Loosing his sister, Raven, killing all those people. It all seemed to happen so fast. So much shock was enough to drive Patrick to his knees for a moment to stare at the moon. He whispered one word that seemed to echo through his mind forever.

"Samantha."

So caught up in his own sorrow, he lost track of time. He must have been moping there for over an hour before finally getting up. The whole time, he refused to allow a tear drop to fall. One of those macho man things he had about him, nothing more than an ego booster. He got up and took off, pressing all the emotions out of his immediate thoughts. Reestablishing the signal, he took off, following the bright arrow on the screen. Straight north.

The signal got much stronger as he left the city. Without all the other interference, it came in crisp and clean. The soft beeping pinged slowly, increasing in tone and speed as he got closer. Finally, the triangle turned to a circle and the tone stopped playing. Patrick was flying over what looked to be an aircraft hanger. He turned off the turned off the device and the entire screen went black instantly, the faint afterglow dying just as fast. He began to descend into the roof of the structure.

Slowly and silently, landing seemed to take for ages. Quite often Patrick had to stop to ensure that the coast was clear. Each time he stopped, he became more certain that there was no one around the hanger. Biting back the fear that he had come to a dead end and this was just some sort of monitoring station, he finally landed on the hard metal roof with a silent thud. He looked around once more, feeling the frigid roof on his hands. It was still very cold in the city. Winter was very rapidly approaching and Patrick could feel every second of its arrival on the metal. He sighed and hopped down to the ground, in the tall grass that adorned the side of the hanger. There was light pouring out of one of the windows. It made long shadows that seemed to blend perfectly with the dark of night after a certain distance.

He approached main gate to the hanger, finding that the door was shut tight. He peered around the corner and found a lone guard, armed with a very powerful rifle, smoking a cigarette, and sitting on a large crate. Patrick smiled, realizing that he wouldn't be outnumbered for once. He focused on the barrel of the man's gun, singed behind his back, melting it to the point where it closed tight, a long distance weld job. Now neither of them were armed. He casually strolled in, very confident, assured that he wouldn't be fired on.

"Hey, you, kid. You can't be in here. It's restricted," the guard said, a bit startled at first from Patrick's sudden appearance.

Patrick kept walking.

"What are you, deaf kid?" the guard asked, picking up his weapon, but not pointing it at Patrick. He walked closer to the teen.

A smile appeared on Patrick's face. "Tell me," he said, "where's the entrance to the complex you're guarding?" Hi voice had a confidence in it that his mind lacked, not sure this was really where anything was.

The guard frowned and aimed his gun at Patrick. "Get out of here kid," he said, "I don't want to have to kill you."

Patrick smiled, his assumptions being confirmed. He focused on producing a small orb of fire above his palm, walking towards the guard slowly. "You might want to inspect your weapon before firing sir," he said with a tone of mock respect.

The guard had just begun to apply pressure on the trigger when he heard Patrick's words, but looked at the barrel just in time to avoid the fatal mistake. Looking shocked, he released the pressure and dropped the weapon, far too shaken up to keep hold it. As if he were afraid it was going to fire at any moment.

"If you value your life," Patrick bluffed, "you'll open whatever secret door there is to get into the complex." He smirked and sent out a few blasts of heat, more to satisfy his own personal demons to make this man squirm.

The man reacted with terror to each blast of heat. It was painfully uncomfortable, but did not quite burn the flesh. He stepped back blindly, stumbling every few steps. Surely whatever he was being paid was not enough for his life. He stepped quickly over to what appeared to be a solid box, much like the case for a circuit breaker. He opened it and reveled a card swipe. Like charging something at the store, he swiped a flat piece of plastic through and an opening in the floor, directly in front of Patrick appeared. It was a staircase, leading down to what looked like an elevator. Patrick saluted the man and began to step down, summoning a bolt of heat, enough to cause the man a mild heat stroke and pass out. Patrick went down the steps assured that the man would survive.

He did not bother to call the elevator, assured that it was not only monitored, but also exited to a very populated room. Stealth was key here. He did not doubt he could handle himself, but a hundred plus men with high powered weapons was quite out of his league, considering he had no way to use his powers to shield himself. Prying open the elevator doors, he hopped into the empty shaft, balancing, less than nimbly, on a ledge that jutted out. His hand groped blindly for the metal cords, allowing him to rappel down the shaft quickly.

The elevator was not moving. It was only used to go from the surface to the complex. That allows the descent to be without any abnormalities. Patrick landed on top of the elevator silently and quietly pondered his next move. He hadn't really thought this far ahead. He looked around for any method to enter the complex instead of the main elevator. He lit a small fire on his hand, looking around calmly. He knew exactly what he was looking for. Only a moment of searching gave him results. There was a large vent shaft, tall enough to walk in, covered by a fenced mesh, likely to keep out any intruders. Patrick smiled at this attempt at security and quickly melted the wires and walked into it, each foot step echoing in the silence.

He felt a constant breeze of warm air across his face as he walked through the hollow metal pathway. Despite his every attempt to keep quite, the metal creaked and groaned under his weight. It was easily covered up by the tone of the air conditioning, but it was still enough to cause Patrick considerable paranoia. Each chance he got; he looked into what was beneath him. Through small slits that allowed the warm air into the complex, he saw exactly what he expected. A surgical white room with several desks, each identically adorned with a high powered computer. It was surprisingly bland and did very well to hide the evils, Patrick knew it held. He continued to walk, planning on dropping into the first ill lit hallway he could see. Though at the rate things were going, he wasn't sure if there was any darkness in this place.

Luckily, just outside the lobby, it appeared to darken up. There were many a deserted hallway, and just as many dimly lit rooms. He thanked his endless luck and jumped out of the vents at the first chance he got. It was a men's restroom, well lit, but without surveillance equipment or people. He planned to wait in there for his perfect opportunity.

It took only ten minutes of waiting before he was finally rewarded. A man entered the rest room and took the familiar stance in front of the urinal nearest where Patrick was perched in the vents. Smiling sadistically, Patrick hopped silently out of the now open shaft and silently approached the man, making sure to not grab him until he heard the sound of trickle of water stop. When he did, he acted swiftly, pressing the blade of his pocket knife up to the man's throat.

No doubt caught off guard, the man would have likely urinated himself if it had not already been taken care of. He merely gasped and stiffened.

"There is a prisoner being held here," Patrick said, hoping his assumptions were true and this was where they had brought Raven, "Where would she be?" His voice was very dark, a bluff, but the man didn't know this.

"I… I don't know," the man said, frightened more by the tone of Patrick's voice than the knife to his throat, but just barely. "I'm not a high level employee," he continued, feeling the increased pressure on his throat, "if they were holding someone, they'd be in Sector 1."

"And how," Patrick said irately, "do you plan to get me there?"

"I can't… I don't have the clearance," the man said, quickly beginning his next sentence before Patrick could harm him, "But I know who can."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Patrick exited the restroom wearing the clothes of the man he had interrogated. They barely fit his height, but were far too wide around the waist. He found that he had to tighten the belt to its tightest notch to make it stay above his knees. Walking awkwardly, he made it to the office of the director of classified studies. He didn't bother reading the name on the brass plaque next to the solid oak double doors. They were not locked, Patrick just walked in. The director was in, sitting at a glorified desk quiet a distance away from the door. It was one of the generic types of offices one would expect for a higher up in a company.

Noticing one security camera placed facing him near the ceiling, looking over the desk, planted on the seats for the director's guests. An added measure to assure no harm befell someone so important. Patrick grinned and focused a small surge of heat, localized on the wiring of the camera. A silent fizzle assured him that the feed was down. It was now just him, and the director, who seemed to have not noticed him yet.

He took a seat in one of the well padded chairs. The director looked up after about three minutes of Patrick waiting silently.

"May I help you?" he asked, "I don't believe I have any appointments today."

Patrick dispelled with the bullshit and got straight to the point. "You have a prisoner in this complex," he said with as calm of a tone as possible, fighting his rage, "Where is she?"

The man perked an eyebrow, looking directly at Patrick. "I see…" he said solemnly, assuming the truth, that Patrick harbored similar powers to the "prisoner" he spoke of. "She is being held in the complex's lower levels. Access to that area is very restricted." He spoke the arrogant truth, knowing it to be impossible for Patrick to make his way down there.

Patrick smiled. "Tell me. Do you have a family?" His question was already answered by the photograph of the director and a woman and a young girl. He paused. The director said nothing, but merely eyed Patrick still suspiciously, wondering where he was going with what he was saying. "Yeah," Patrick said casually, "I used to have one too. Do you know what happened to it?"

The director still remained silent.

"My family, my sister, was killed by the bullets of an M-16. One of your company's I believe." Patrick was still very calm, at least in his voice and actions. His mind was ablaze will all the forms of possible painful revenge he could enact against this man. "Now, I give you two options," he said in a very business-like manner, "You can either get me down to this 'Sector 1'. Or… I can take an eye for an eye and kill your daughter. And trust me sir, I will not make it pleasant." Patrick spoke entirely seriously, though not sure in his heart if he could kill a child to satisfy his own personal vengeance.

The director's eyes widened in shock, seeing the dark truth. "V-v-ery well," he said with an extremely shaken voice. This was not something he wanted to gamble on. "The elevator is secured magnetically; you won't be able to get into it without proper clearance." He rolled forward slowly and reached into his desk.

"Slowly," Patrick said, wary to what it might be he was pulling out.

It turned out the director was playing a fair game, or as fair as an enemy could play. He pulled out a magnetic card, similar to the one the guard on the surface had. It appeared, however, to have a certain degree of importance to it. Patrick reached forward and snatched it quickly, inspecting it just as fast. He stood and looked at the man, knocking him unconscious just as he had the two men before him. He placed the limp body to make it look as if he had fallen asleep in his work. Certain the rouse would be adequate to at least make it appear that no foul play was involved should he be found; he walked out of the office, still wearing his disguise.

Finding the elevator to Sector 1 was simple enough. He merely had to follow arrows on the walls and maps placed for worker convenience. Reaching it, smiled and walked down the well lit hallway to the elevator. There were two guards. But they seemed to just be there for show and to make sure that no one tampered with the card reader, they didn't even give him a second look. Patrick swiped his card and the doors opened, revealing a large white elevator, big enough to accommodate the forty people that its maximum occupancy boasted on the wall next to the two arrows. Up and down. Only one was lit.

"Nowhere else to go," Patrick muttered as he pressed the button hard. The doors thundered shut and he felt a very sudden change in gravity.

It had to have taken a good minute before he felt the elevator stop. His ears had popped several times on the way down, making him wonder just how far under the earth this part of the complex was. The elevator had come to a complete halt and a loud tone told Patrick that he was at his destination. He gulped down his fear, half expecting to see an armada of soldiers aiming their military grade weapons at the doors, waiting for his arrival.

This, however, was the opposite of what he found. The doors opened to a massive white room with several people walking about and reading computer screens. The floor right in front of the walls was adorned with what looked like large circular landing pads, the walls themselves having all kinds of mechanical outcroppings that seemed to be designed to either plug into or be plugged into. Most were taken up by mechs, many of them the exact same appearance to the one that had attacked the city not two weeks ago. Above each pad was a large flat screen that held the status of the mech the pad contained. They were all powered down, some being repaired by robotic welding arms that extended from the walls when in use, but discretely concealed when not in use.

"Jackpot," Patrick said optimistically. He walked out across the floor, passing several people wearing uniforms similar to his. They were going about whatever menial task they had to do on the mechs. Patrick did not stop to ask where Raven was being held, fearing he might cause suspicion. He just continued walking towards a large set of automatic doors on the other side of the room. There were other doors in the room, but they were small and, Patrick assumed that they led to some aspect of assembly for the mechs in the room. The large doors seemed to stick out as leading to something important. His assumptions were assured when he finally could see text above the doors simply saying "Biological".

Patrick walked into the doors, hit by a rush of cool air, and found himself in a pressure sealed gateway between the two rooms. The doors behind him closed and the room adjusted with nothing more than a silent hiss. The doors in front of him opened and he found himself in a less massive room, equally white with several computers along the walls, all giving our readouts of some sort, most of which Patrick could not understand. There were people at most of the stations, sitting in what seemed to be general issue chairs with no comfort value. They were all typing or reading something absentmindedly. Some were talking to a colleague who was looking over their shoulder.

Patrick walked past all these people, already seeing where he needed to go. There, on the other side of the room, at least thirty feet from where he stood, was a completely closed off room, completely transparent in all aspects. It was barely furnished, spare a bed. There was a small part of the cell made of privacy glass, a small door leading into it of the same material. Though the privacy glass was probably merely an illusion of decency as the entire cell was networked with cameras, along with several on the outside looking in.

And there, on the floor, lay the crumpled form of Raven, collapsed on the floor, still in her usual uniform.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Patrick buried all the rage he had suddenly felt beneath the few remaining shards of calmness he had left. Walking casually, he approached the cage they held her in. There were three scientists looking at some computer screens that seemed to be linked to Raven's vital signs.

"Is she still alive?" one of them asked. Patrick approached them silently, keeping silent, despite his desire to become Rambo.

"She'll live," another one of them said, pointing to the vitals. There was a heartbeat, something even Patrick could see on the screens as he got close enough to look over their shoulders. He looked into the cage that contained the weakened and beaten Raven. She wasn't moving much at all; spare the heaving of her slow breaths. He doubted she was even conscious.

"She better," the third scientist said, "we still have more tests for her."

"Any more tests today might kill her," the first scientist said, "she needs to rest these last ones off."

Patrick, who had been casing the room the whole time, was now very aware of his surroundings. There were no armed guards; this room was completely one of science. Apparently, this complex boasted high enough security to keep the needs of firearms in Sector 1 to a minimum. This worked into Patrick's favor though as soon as he did something hostile, he would have to escape quickly as armed personnel would be on their way.

"Quite an interesting specimen," the second scientist said.

"And an even better person," Patrick said suddenly, shattering his stealth. The three scientists turned around abruptly and were confronted with his smiling face. He winked at them and punched the first one in the face, sending him back a good three feet before landing hard on his back, sufficiently knocked out. The other two scientists, made confident with their numbers rushed him. Though as men of biology, they were not much for battle, Patrick disposed of them quickly, not using his powers much at all. He went entirely non-lethal, resisting the urge to have a repeat performance of the cave. They dropped quickly and the other scientists around the room all seemed to press an alarm button at the exact same moment. Though it was silent still completely silent in the room, he knew countless guards were being summoned.

He moved swiftly and without hesitation, firing a column of fire at wall of the cell, melting the plastic instantly under the intense heat and flames, sending off huge clouds of toxic chemical smoke. Patrick sprinted in, as fast as his leg could take him and grabbed Raven by the arm, practically wrenching it out of her socket, lifting her up and throwing her over his shoulder and then sprinting back out. By this time, the sprinkler system had been set off and the room was being doused in an artificial monsoon. Made frantic by the falling water and effectively loosing every bit of calmness he had, he began running towards the doorway back to the Technology portion of Sector 1.

He didn't bother for the pressure lock to normalize before blowing the automatic door open. However, on the other side, he found that he had not been fast enough at all. There, standing in front of him, was a small battalion of armed guards, all guns aimed at him poised to fire.

He gulped and quickly ran to one side as shots rang out. Too caught up in the adrenalin of the moment, he did not notice the multiple wounds he had received as he ran. They were minor though, mostly knicks and cuts to the skin as bullets winged him. Crouched behind the massive foot of the mech he had taken shelter behind, he sat down Raven. He looked at her for a moment. She was bleeding, rather badly. It appeared one of the bullets that had missed him; hit her right in the side. Still unconscious, her face was contorted in pain as she bled on the still luminescent white floor.

"No," he whispered as he put his hand on her wound. It was low enough to have missed her heart and lungs, but he feared she might still bleed out if he didn't hurry. He watched her wince as her breath became uneven. She was in pain and could do nothing about it. Thinking about fast as he could, given the situation, he tore off a large piece of the shit beneath the trench coat he was wearing and tied around her waist tightly, almost constricting her.

He peeked his head over the foot of the mech and saw the group of armed guards fast approaching, hesitating only enough to have given him the time to tend to Raven's wounds.

"Forgive me Raven," he said, realizing that he only had one option to save both their lives. With a bright flash, he summoned all his powers to the fullest he could take them, heating the entire room quickly by several degrees. Instantly, he was out from behind the mech, taking full fire from all the guards. He flew straight up, raising the temperature of the air around him beyond that of the melting point of steel. Many of the bullets melted before they hit him, splashing off. It was enough to make him cringe, but he thanked his luck that they did not have the substance to break the skin. He looked down at the men firing at him in vain. The molten metal hitting him did nothing to stop him. With a heavy sigh, he unleashed a wave of fire and heat, almost identical to what he did in the cave. The men below screamed in horror as they died slowly, their body combustion and fading away to ashes. The floor they stood on became molten metal, glowing red hot. All the ammunition the men had carried, when off in a flash, ricocheting off all the mech and finding places to embed themselves.

It was all over so fast. The armada of men, now a mere ghost of what they once were. There was nothing left this time, no skeletons, no bodies, just a molten red circle where they had once stood.

Something beyond this was bothering Patrick as he flew back down to Raven still unconscious and bleeding. He made the effort to shove into the back of his mind as he put her onto his shoulder again, but it remained there, ebbing away at his consciousness. He had actually enjoyed that. He had enjoyed killing all those men. Watching their lives snuffed out in the bright white flames he produced.

A heavy frown plastered on his face, he took up flight and darted towards the elevator, blasting it wide open and tearing through the elevator and shooting up vertically, a firm grip on Raven so he did not drop her as he flew. He stopped in front of the magnetically sealed doors, focusing a massive blast of heat and melting them out, the molten steel, dripping down and disappearing into the darkness of the elevator shaft.

He didn't wait for the metal to cool. He shot through, promptly killing the two guards that stood at the elevator door, weapons drawn. They didn't get a chance to even fire, they were a puff of ash in a flash. Leaving them without a second though towards the lives he had just taken, he bolted through the narrow hallways, hitting the walls on each turn, though shielding Raven from the blunt force. He moved as a flash, pushing those unarmed workers that were in his way aside with the ripple of superheated air that preceded him. It was enough to burn them, but they were not killed at least, Patrick was attempting to be careful, but the thoughts of their deaths didn't faze him as they would have a few minutes earlier. He shuddered as he flew from the thought that he might be getting used to murder.

At last, he was in the lobby, the one he had avoided on his way in through the vents. There was not time to avoid detection. The few armed guards in the room were swiftly dealt with. Few fired in time to beat their deaths. Those bullets that were fired, all hit Patrick. Most were in the shoulder, but two collided with his stomach and shot out the other end, almost making him drop Raven, who had also been wounded by the fresh barrage of bullets, though not as badly as Patrick.

As quick as he had entered the lobby, he was out of the complex, reaching ground level almost instantaneously. Bleeding and carrying extra weight, he felt a cold creep up his spine as he flew, full bore towards the Tower, due south.

The sun slowly was rising over the city as it came into view. Patrick felt his eyelids getting heavy. Thick drops of blood leaked out of his stomach as he flew, raining on the ground beneath him. Raven's clothing too were soaked entirely with both his and her blood. He sighed as he finally saw the familiar T on the horizon. He aimed straight at the living room window. He was too weak to take her up the stairs of the tower, and the security of the tower was not designed to allow him to do that easily. With a hollow gulp, he covered Raven and fired a blast of fire at the window, shattering the glass loudly. The entire tower shook, no doubt waking everyone. The rooms all took the shade of red as the intruder alarm went off. Patrick flew weakly into the tower and set Raven down on the couch, before collapsing onto the bed of broken glass, his now blurred vision catching the friendly silhouettes of his friends and team mates.

"Please…" he muttered as he closed his eyes once more, falling into the deep cold sleep that had been plaguing him so long.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

"I had felt cold," Patrick thought as he slept in a semi-conscious state. Such astonishment came oddly for him. He had never so much as shivered in his life. His powers had always allowed him to conquer all temperatures he had encountered. To feel so mortal, so cold, was beyond what he wished to grasp. On occasion, he would open his eyes. Though they were so out of focus, he couldn't see anything. His body was unable to move for so long. The time passed awkwardly for him. In the amounts of time that he was aware, he felt as if he would never wake. But once he slipped back into sleep, time seemed to pass almost instantaneously. It made him feel that he had been aware through all of his time healing.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he was able to open his eyes and see clearly. It was dark in the room he was laying it. The bed felt alien, a soft, uncomfortable place to lie for too long. He had been unaware of this the whole time he had been recuperating. The whole time, he had been under the somewhat dense assumption that he was sleeping sound in his own room, in his own bed.

"Hospital wing?" he mumbled as he looked over to see the bedside table with a glass of water on it, the condensation running down it's side, staining a ring in the painted steel. He sighed and sat up, feeling that he had to have the worst track record as a Titan when it came to life threatening injuries. The room was pitch-black, no light whatsoever to see by. There were no windows in the room, just the hypnotic hum of the air conditioner, pumping out warm air.

He ran his hands down his stomach, feeling no gaping holes, nothing seemed to be missing. His mind felt clear, awake, and refreshed. With a snap, he formed a small spark of fire that lit the room enough to look around. The floor was clear of any objects to trip over. It had to be the cleanest room in the tower. He smiled and stood up, walking across the soft, carpeted floors towards the door. He was wearing some loosely fitting pajamas and no shirt. They were no what he was wearing that night. He blushed for a moment in modesty, but got over it quickly, certain that his privacy had been preserved. It was the Teen Titans he was dealing with, not voyeur world.

The door slid open, all high tech and flashy, just as it always did and he walked out into the familiar hallways. They were dark, but more lit than his hospital room. Off in the living room he could see the light of the beginning of the sunrise. His room was the first stop, to get more comfortable of clothes, and more covering ones at that. Then he took up his place in his favorite chair and watched the sun rise.

All that could be heard in the tower was the muffled sounds of birds chirping and the frigid waters of the bay crashing on the island's rocky shore. Other than those, the tower was dead silent. Patrick sat there in almost a trance-like focus on previous events. His mind marred by the recent events in the complex.

"So that's the price of our lives?" he thought. The death toll of his rescue was almost enough to qualify it more as a slaughter with benefits.

He put into the back of his mind the memory of his sense of fulfillment from killing them. How he had felt that night was malicious and wrong. Killing was not a sport, something to be proud of. It was an act of desperation. He forcefully convinced himself of this and purged those memories of enjoyable murder to the back of his consciousness.

By now, the sun had rising and was well in the sky, lighting the living room and the whole of the city. Patrick looked over at the time. 6:53. No one would be awake anytime soon. Patrick sighed and stood, the sunrise no longer holding his attention as the most enjoyable part had already come and gone.

He paced for quite some time before he finally heard the silent sounds of people moving about. He had no idea who was waking up, nor could he tell; not even his ability to see heat patterns were able to penetrate the thick metal walls of the tower.

"Someone's up early," he said happily as the first member of the team to wake, beside himself entered the living room.

"Patrick? You're up?" a familiar voice asked. It was that of Cyborg's.

"Slept for two weeks straight didn't I?" he retorted quickly, "'bout time I woke up." He smiled as he said this and turned around to see the familiar friendly face of the robot man. He stood. "So what are you doing up so early in the morning?" he asked.

"My turn for breakfast duty," he said, "I'll be damned if I eat another tofu square."

"Beast Boy's cooking still that bad, huh?"

Cyborg nodded and turned around, opening the refrigerator. He treated things the way they were before. Pulling out all sorts of meat, he set to work preparing them for whatever extravagant cholesterol-fest he had in mind. "Oh," he said, still working on the meat, "welcome back."

Patrick smiled and turned on the television.

It was another hour before Cyborg's cooking drove much of the rest of the team out of their chambers. The first one out was Robin, but he was followed almost instantly by Starfire, who shouted in glee in seeing her fellow comrade healed and back on his feet. Robin was much more nonchalant in his greetings.

His back sore from the hug he had received from Starfire, he sat down at the table and waited for Cyborg to unveil his creation.

"Oh it smells marvelous Cyborg," Starfire said airily, and far too loud for the indoors, "When may we eat?"

"Wait for Raven and BB" Cyborg said quickly.

"Then, Raven is alright," Patrick said somewhat happily.

"Yeah, she was up and awake in less than two days," Robin said, "You did good work stopping her from bleeding out." He paused and looked at Patrick. "Tell me. What happened?"

Patrick looked at Robin oddly. "I'll tell you another time." That was the end of it. Not even Starfire, with her lack of earthly social grace, pushed the topic any further.

"Raven," Cyborg said in a falsetto, "there you are!"

"Not hungry," were her first words as she entered the room following Cyborg's verbal fanfare.

"Well, aren't you a bucket of sunshine this morning," Patrick said sarcastically.

Raven seemed to be caught by surprise by the voice she had no heard in so long. She hid it well after a few seconds. "Nice to see you're still alive," she said about as warmly as she could permit.

"Yeah," Patrick said a bit take aback, "You too."

"Where in hell is Beast Boy," Robin said irately, though not truly mad.

"Why?" Patrick said, "He won't eat this stuff."

Cyborg sighed and showed what he had been making in a separate pan. It was some sort of fake meat.

"Awww, Cyborg," came the familiar nasally voice of Beast Boy as he walked in the room, "You do care." He then looked over at Patrick. "Whoa, when did he wake up?"

"Earlier than you," Patrick said smiling as Cyborg finally set the table with food. Patrick's hands went instantly towards the steak and eggs. He had missed having good meals. It seemed that a good portion of his recent time spent in the tower had been unconscious.

The breakfast had been happy and light hearted. Even Raven laughed at some of the funny anecdotes Cyborg and Beast Boy had to share. Some never even happened, but that didn't seem to dampen anyone's enjoyment of them. The morning ended with the Titans well fed and feeling lazy.

Patrick had taken up a new habit he found. He would sit in his chair and stare absentmindedly out the window. He would loose track of time completely when he did this. Hours could seem like seconds and seconds, like days. It was a blissful state of self reflection.

"And I thought Raven was the only one who meditated," Robin said to Patrick.

His mental blankness had shattered and he was flung back into reality. "Whoa. Where was I?" he asked out loud.

"Dunno," Robin said laughing, but then his face turned serious. "Patrick," he said, his voice low enough so no one could hear, "I need to know what happened back at the facility you found Raven at. What you saw, anything that might let us know what we're up against."

"It's not pretty," Patrick replied quickly.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

"All of them?" Robin asked dumbfounded. He was more in shock by the sheer number of people Patrick had claimed to have killed in the combat versus the morality. The boy wonder shook his head in awe and sighed.

"I had no choice," Patrick said in defense, "It was them, or us."

The other team members had gathered around him, drawn by the story Patrick was spinning. It seemed that Raven, though isolated from the group had taken the most interest in it. The events that had occurred while she slept were grim indeed.

Robin couldn't really think of an argument. As morbidly horrible of an act as it was, Patrick was justified. He had been wounded, as had Raven. There was really no other alternative for him.

"Look," Patrick said, "I'm not proud of it. But there was no other way."

The team nodded, almost all simultaneously. It seemed they had understood this situation much more than the incident in the cave so many months ago. Hearing that he was not proud of it seemed to be all they needed.

"Did you find anything else while you were there," Robin asked sternly, "Any clues that might help us know who they are?"

"No," Patrick said, "I was in and out too fast to catch anything of importance. They were very well funded. No small time operation." He paused. "I saw several more mechs as I got to where they were keeping Raven. They looked about the same as the one we fought."

"That's definitely bad," Robin said, "We could barely contend with the one they sent last time. And it ended with us a team member shorter."

Patrick saw Raven shudder even from where he was. Though the rest of the team had their back to her. He gave her a quizzical gaze, but made no verbal reaction. Again, it seemed the team did not notice his actions.

"Yes," Starfire agreed, "And it nearly destroyed the city."

The deliberations went on for another hour or so before the team realized they could not milk any more useful information out of Patrick. He had told them everything short of how he had felt when killing the guards. They seemed actually disappointed, even Beast Boy, despite his apparent lack of interest in the discussion. He seemed to like to leave the thinking for the other team members.

But it seemed that most of the team, except for Robin, who had gone to his room directly following the end of the conversation, was uninspired to work. Best Boy and Cyborg spent the entire day playing some pointless, low quality racing game. Patrick joined in from time to time, playing the winner. He did fairly well, even on occasion beat Beast Boy, but Cyborg was an adversary beyond his ability, at least at the game he was playing. Starfire, surprisingly quiet the whole day through, spent most of the day finding excuses to go back to where Robin was hiding out.

"So painfully obvious," Patrick found himself thinking as he watched her float out of the room and down the hallway for what had to be the tenth time in the hour. He smiled at it though, and then found himself slapped with the controller once more by a fuming Beast Boy who had been beaten again.

Raven, like always, was meditating in the corner of the living room, keeping entirely to herself. All in all, despite the drama that had unfolded earlier, it was an average day in the tower. It seemed that the police in the city were actually doing their jobs and crime was almost non existent, at least none that required the aid of six super powered teenagers.

Darkness came quickly that night. Despite the endless boredom, Patrick found that time had flown by. Soon, the majority of the team has turned in for sleep. Cyborg and Beast Boy were still finishing their grueling marathon of gaming. Patrick had been ruled as the observer, having already been eliminated. He didn't mind, it was something to do other than stare out the window absentmindedly. Of course, Cyborg won, but it was a close fight.

"And the winner," Patrick said loudly, as the final race ended. He pointed to Cyborg in an exaggerated manner that a wrestling announcer would.

"Aww yeah," Cyborg proclaimed, "Who da man!"

"Lucky win," Beast Boy said in a defeated tone right before he let out an enormous yawn. To the point where he actually transformed into a cat to do it.

"Time to hit the sack," Cyborg said as he stood from the couch, he metal joints and human limbs popping from the lack of use all day. He sighed and walked over to the wall and activated the Tower's security and walked down the hallway with loud, heavy footsteps.

"Yeah, me too," Beast Boy said as soon as Cyborg was out of site. He hopped up, more limber and agile, and practically pranced to his room.

And then all was silent. The whole of the tower was asleep, or getting there very quickly. Patrick took his usual place on the chair looking out the window. There wasn't much to see other than the bright full moon which shown through the clouds with a shadowy halo of cloud about it. Patrick ignored this, not too impressed by nature's beauty at the moment. He sighed and relaxed into his own mind, shutting out all other things at the moment. A state that he had before interrupted by Robin so much earlier in that day. In this, he saw so many memories. Vivid times, some that never happened, merely his own mind making up a past. There he was with Samantha, his younger sister. She spoke to him as if she were already dead, but was very much alive.

"Sam," he spoke within his mind to his beautiful sister, "I am sorry. You didn't deserve it."

She smiled at him, but remained wordless. The vision of her began to fade. So rapidly, she was gone. Patrick found himself in the living room of the tower once more, staring out the window. His eyes were dry from spending so long without blinking. Something had driven him out of his world of self focus. He shifted in his chair and looked behind him. There was someone in the kitchen. He recognized her instantly.

"No sleep for the restless?" Patrick called out with a smile.

"You're one to talk," came the somewhat raspy voice of Raven.

"I've done enough sleeping." Raven smiled. It was about all Patrick could see. Her teeth reflected the moonlight. "More tea, huh?"

With a nod, Raven turned on the stove, putting her usual kettle on the red hot fire. She then turned to him, walking down the three steps to the level Patrick was on, her entire form becoming illuminated as she walked. A white light, making her appear all the more pale. "Thank you," she said suddenly.

"For what?" Patrick asked bewildered.

Raven sighed, apparently not wanting to elaborate. "For coming to get me."

Patrick smiled weakly at her. "It was nothing."

"No," Raven argued, "It was more than something. You risked your life for me alone."

"The team isn't much for stealth."

"You killed to keep me safe."

Patrick fought back the shiver he felt run through his spine when she said those words. His mind was instantly back on his sense of accomplishment for killing all those men. How good it felt to end them all.

"What is it?" Raven asked noticing his curious behavior.

"Nothing," Patrick responded calmly.

Raven looked at him, unconvinced. She turned to her teapot just in time to see it boil. Her tea was in a bag and seeping its dark contents into the steaming hot water in moments. She walked quietly over to the couch and began drinking, apparently ignoring the scalding hot water.

Patrick could see how hot the water was from where he was sitting. It seemed to emanate warmth that Patrick could see even from where he was sitting. "Don't burn yourself," he said with a smile.

"Oh… it's an acquired taste."

"What? Burning yourself?" Patrick responded with a smart assed tone.

Raven gave him a sour look and took another sip. It was indeed hot enough to burn her mouth, but it wasn't a horrible pain and it was instantly numbed away by the flavor of the tea.

"So," Raven said, putting down her mug, "who were they?"

"Who were who?"

"The ones who captured me. You were withholding something today when you were talking to Robin. What is it?"

Patrick tensed once more. "How did she know?" he thought as he remembered how she had been eying him curiously while the team was interrogating him.

"So…?"

"I don't know who they were," Patrick replied truthfully. He had been holding back some knowledge earlier, but it had nothing to do with the identity of the group that had taken Raven.

"Then what was it?" Raven repeated, "There was something you weren't telling us."

"It's nothing."

Raven eyed him curiously, but dropped the subject. She wasn't one to pry. He merely sat and continued to drink her tea silently.

"It's kind of weird," Patrick suddenly said, "knowing what life is worth."

"Just one life for so many deaths," Raven said, apparently thinking the same thing, "was it worth it?"

Patrick looked at her like she was insane. "The life of you?" he said with a smile, "definitely."

Raven smiled a slight hint of red, visible on her inhumanely pale skin. Patrick saw this, but made no verbal comment towards it.

"Have we become so painfully obvious?" he thought, being reminded of Starfire and Robin. He buried this thought deep inside his mind as nothing more than his ego sparking. "Who said we are a 'we'?" he thought with a mental laugh.

"What is it that gives my life so much more value?" Raven asked, her voice seeming to crack a bit. "What gives me the right to live when they all died?"

"Because I decided so," Patrick said sternly, "I wouldn't have just done nothing while you suffered."

"But is that justification?"

"It's enough for me! I would have gladly slaughtered them all to get you to safety!" Patrick didn't know why, but he felt very uncomfortable after finishing that sentence. He looked at Raven with a most serious of expressions.

Raven looked surprise. She had not expected such an eruption of emotion from Patrick. She stood and walked over to him, slowly, her steps very methodic and precise. "Your emotions," she began, "are very powerful. They lead you do things that transcend you abilities, even as a superhuman. But these actions are violent, dark, murderous. They are morally wrong."

"My emotions… saved our lives."

"But they have taken more away. Remember back in the cave? What happened there?"

"I…"

"You lost control. You had kept control of all your emotions for so long, but never channeled them into something. They lied there dormant, in such great amounts. All they needed was a spark…"

"Samantha," Patrick whispered closing his eyes, willing away the sudden tears he felt with the mention of her name.

"They escaped you, too powerful to be held in any longer."

There was a long pause. Patrick felt a sudden twinge in his right arm.

"You killed fifty-three men. Unarmed men. To prove what? That you don't like being fucked with?"

"I get it," Patrick said suddenly standing, moving over to the window. "They just took so much pleasure in her death. They deserved to die!"

"You didn't seem to think that after you did it," Raven said walking up behind him and grabbing his arm, rolling up the sleeve. The scars were still there. "You promised yourself you'd never do it again."

"I know," Patrick said defeated, turning around slowly to face her, his eyes the only real part of his expression showing emotion; a confusing torrent of rage and self pity.

"I can help you," Raven said calmly, her eyes breaking contact with his, looking out the window behind him.

Patrick, put a hand beneath Raven's chin and moved it for her to make eye contact once more. They were no longer so upset. He was smiling at her. "You already have," he said with a smile. He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. It broke swiftly and Patrick looked at the surprised and somewhat stunned Raven.

"Well, she didn't scream 'rape!'," he thought as he walked off silently, headed outside, and from there, wherever. He had time to burn.


End file.
